


The Three Kings: Compilation

by AlcatrazOutpatient



Series: Three Kings Series [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-04-21 08:51:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14281347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlcatrazOutpatient/pseuds/AlcatrazOutpatient
Summary: A series of short stories from within the Three Kings universe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As first recorded by the best selling book The Tales of Beedle the Bard, the Legend of the Three Kings has become a favourite of young witches and wizards. It weaves a fantastical story of the first three people to ever use a wand, using their magic to rule over the ancient world of Egypt before sacrificing themselves in a duel against a mage by the name of Aknadin. The heroes remain nameless to this day, only referred to by their epitaphs: the King Commander, the Lady Pharaoh, and the Thief King.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Yu-gi-oh! Duel Monsters is owned by Kazuki Takahashi, Studio Gallop, Nihon Ad Studios, and TV Tokyo. Harry Potter is owned by J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Arthur A. Levine Books, and Warner Bros. Please support the official releases.
> 
> Warning: Mentions of infidelity, hinted sexism and racism, historical inaccuracy for the sake of propaganda, canonical character death, coups, and incest.

**Kings and Queens: An Analysis of the Three Kings Legend**  
Author: James Warren Andrews   
Written in 1992, to be published following his return to England after a series of guest lectures at Mahoutokoro School of Magic   
  
**Table of Contents** ****  
****  
**1\.  Introduction** ****  
**2\.  The Birthplace of the Legend** ****  
**3\.  The Controversy of a Female King** ****  
**4\.  The Villain** ****  
**5\.  The Fact Behind Fiction  
** **6.  Conclusion  
** ****  
**Introduction** ****  
  
As first recorded by the best selling book The Tales of Beedle the Bard, the Legend of the Three Kings has become a favourite of young witches and wizards.  It weaves a fantastical story of the first three people to ever use a wand, using their magic to rule over the ancient world of Egypt before sacrificing themselves in a duel against a mage by the name of Aknadin.  The heroes remain nameless to this day, only referred to by their epitaphs: the King Commander, the Lady Pharaoh, and the Thief King.   
  
However, Beedle's book is not the only place to find this tale.  The Legend of the Three Kings is told all over the wizarding world, leading many historians to believe that they did exist at some point.  For several decades, the effort to find proof drew researchers to Egypt, where they scavenged the desert to look for magical treasures - and find them they did.   
  
Many magical historians have provided us with their versions of the tale.  However, they sometimes vary in consistency: where one will declare that there was a marriage between the Lady Pharaoh and the King Commander, others will point at a rumoured relationship between her and the Thief King.  Moreover, that is just the beginning. In this essay, I hope to bring some commonality to the Legend of the Three Kings and to discuss what might have happened versus what is just the stuff of legend.   
  
**2\.  The Birthplace of the Legend**   
  
World-renowned magical historian, Bathilda Bagshot, is the first place that many people go to when trying to understand the Kings.  In her very first book, _The Legend of the Three Kings: An Origin Story_ , Bagshot recounts the legend for us in a modern context, using facts to back up the fiction of Beedle’s tale.  She believes that the Kings were a trio of New Kingdom rulers that lived sometime during the Amarna Period, an era of Egyptian history that covers most of the late eighteenth dynasty.   
  
Muggle archaeologists believe that the Amarna Period occurred after the Pharaoh Amenhotep IV, who was later known as Akhenaten, dramatically changed the ancient Egyptian polytheistic religion into one where the sun god, Aten, was worshipped over all the rest.  However, Curse Breakers and magical historians know that this is false, as wizards created the Amarna Period shortly after the inauguration of the Statute of Secrecy ( _A History of Magic_ , 1947, issue 1).   
  
The Amarna Period takes place roughly between 1351-1332 B.C. and is credited with the first emergence of magic.  Even the truth of the time periods before and after are heavily monitored to ensure the safety of wizarding kind.  The most commonly known cover-up took place in the early 1920s, where the body of the great Pharaoh Seth was replaced with the corpse that the muggle foolishly named Pharaoh Tutankhamun.  Most of Seth’s possessions were replicated and stuffed into the false king’s burial chamber to preserve the sanctity of the Statute. A curse was also placed on the entrance to prevent others from venturing to the other side of its painted walls into the rest of the tomb ( _Near Misses: Five Cover-Ups That Saved The Statute_ , 2001, issue 1).   
  
Bagshot’s claims were later expanded upon by Japanese historian, Tamostu Kitamori.  “Evidence points to a gap in between the reigns of Pharaoh Aknamkanon (1366-1334 B.C.) and Pharaoh Seth (1332-1292 B.C.), a period of roughly two years where records of the ruling powers of Egypt seem to have gone blank ( _The Known History of the Three Kings_ , 1988, issue 1).”  One can then infer that the Kings must have taken up their thrones sometime between 1334 and 1332 B.C.  This means that the common belief that they had ruled Egypt for decades, spawned by Beedle’s tale, is false.   
  
However, Kitamori’s theories must be taken with a grain of salt.  Later in his book, he puts forth the idea that the Kings were not all of Egyptian bloodlines, citing that the King Commander’s mythical family (which he mistakenly calls Clan Ishtar) may have been from the neighbouring country of Assyria.  He even goes as far as to claim that the Thief King may not have been a member of a royal branch clan but was born a peasant somewhere in the Sinai Peninsula ( _The Known History of the Three Kings_ , 1988, issue 1).  These two theories go against the mountain of evidence that Bagshot and her contemporaries have accumulated over the years, so his testimony regarding the era in which the Kings may have reigns might be the only gem of truth to come out of his book.   
  
**3\.   The Controversy of a Female King**   
  
Reputable magical historians all agree that the Kings were born in the Egyptian city of Thebes.  It is also a common belief that the Lady Pharaoh, the only one of the Kings with a direct connection to the royal line, may have been a daughter of Pharaoh Aknamkanon.   
  
Many have postulated why she was selected to become the next ruler of Egypt over her brother and eventual successor, Seth.  Violetta Black, a controversial but no less intriguing author who focused much of her research on the Lady Pharaoh herself rather than to include her as one of the Three Kings, attempts to answer such a question in her book _Throne_ .   
  
Black attacks the supposed proof of the Lady Pharaoh/King Commander marriage directly, stating that the document that was drawn up during the reign of Aknamkanon only refers to a possible marriage occurring between the pair.  She speculates that this was because the contract was made in the years before the Lady Pharaoh’s birth and that Aknamkanon did not know if his sister-wife Mukarramma was going to have a girl. As a result, Black doubts that a marriage between any of the Kings ever took place ( _Throne_ , 1940, issue 1).   
  
Black puts forth the idea that the Lady Pharaoh may have ruled in her own right, with the other two ‘Kings’ being a pair of advisors who may have been close friends.  However, to sow discord into the ranks of her followers, the rumour that the Lady Pharaoh had relations with both of these men behind their mages may have been spread by her political opponents.  This idea was later expanded on in a novel authored by Black’s daughter, Cassiopeia Zabini, in _When Witches Rule: Female Leaders Throughout The Ages._   
  
However surprisingly, Black did not include Pharaoh Seth as a member of those that wanted her off the throne.  She says that “it is clear that [Seth] loved his sister very much and often referenced her as an inspiration in the poetry discovered within his tomb” ( _Throne_ , 1940, issue 1).   
  
However, in direct contrast to Black’s writing, we have the tale brought forth by Percival Selwyn.  In his book, _Tales of the Eternal_ , he put forth the idea that this may not have been the case:   
  
“While it is clear that a war occurred sometime around the end of Aknamkanon’s rule, it is unclear was the cause might have been,” Selwyn tells us.  “What is clear is that this war lead to two things: the death of the former Pharaoh and the passing over of Aknamkanon’s son, Seth, in place of his daughter”  ( _Tales of the Eternal_ , 1943, issue 3)   
  
Selwyn goes on to explain that, perhaps, it was the marriage that occurred between the King Commander and the Lady Pharaoh that may have tipped the balance.  The war that Selwyn sites in the text may have been a possible coup led by the Commander himself to place himself on the throne using his royal wife as a means to an end.   
  
Selwyn also believes that this is where the Thief King comes into the picture.  He says that, rather than be trapped in a loveless marriage, the Lady Pharaoh turned to one of her husband’s spymaster to find comfort while he was away on military campaigns.  The two were later discovered together by Seth himself, compromising the legitimacy of any of their children and leading to the removal of the ‘Three Kings’ from power, as well as the reinstatement of the true Pharaoh himself ( _Tales of the Eternal_ , 1943, issue 3).   
  
“The true story of the Three Kings,” Selwyn tells us, “is not a love story, but of a power-hungry man and his unfaithful wife.  Seth had always been the heir, though he may have loved his poor sister enough to create the tale that we now know to preserve what was left of her legacy.  It is not something that children are looking for a beautiful story before bedtime may want to hear, but it might just be the hard truth that we need to hear.”   
  
This, of course, brings up a character within the legend that is often ignored by historians: Akandin.   
  
**4\. The Villain**   
  
Depending on whom you ask, the character of Aknadin has been many things.  Bagshot believed Aknadin to be the first mage, created as a result of a muggle attempting an experiment in soul-based magic, a well-known taboo amongst wizarding kind.  Many seem to agree with her, including Percival Selwyn. While there is very little proof of this claim, Beedle’s legend does say that Aknadin had been a priest that made a contract with a god of Chaos.  Since mages are often connected with the archaic notion of godhood, it is not a hard leap to thing that Beedle was trying to refer to a mage while writing a book geared toward children.   
  
Black goes a step further, citing old texts from the rule of Aknamkanon’s father: Pharaoh Shabaka.  Very little is known about Shabaka, despite the long and prosperous reign he supposedly had. However, during the trips she made to Egypt while researching Throne, Black made a remarkable discovery.   
  
“It was a tablet found in Deir el-Medina, a village of artisans and tomb builders that neighboured Thebes,” Black tells us.  “The tablet had been a royal order for the construction of the tombs for Shabaka’s children. One in the Valley of the Kings for Aknamkanon, another in the Valley of the Queens for Mukarramma, and a final more private tomb to be built for Aknamkanon’s twin brother.   
  
The twin’s name has since been removed from the tablet and the plot where the tomb was to be constructed was later given to a nineteenth dynasty scribe, but Black believes this twin brother may have been Aknadin himself.  She postulates that the wars that plagued Aknamkanon’s and the Lady Pharaoh’s reigns may have been attempts made by Aknadin to put himself on the throne and that the Legend itself was a fantastical retelling of a civil war ( _Throne_ , 1940, issue 1).   
  
“Perhaps the Lady Pharaoh and her fellow ‘Kings’ did die in the attempt to kill Aknadin and maybe he was a mage, but as Bagshot herself says: there is no evidence to support that claim,” Black tells us.  “I know that we like to blame mages for everything bad about our history, but maybe it is time to step back and take a good look at our past. Dark wizards and witches do exist. Maybe Aknadin was one of them.”   
  
However, not many people are inclined to agree with her..  Bagshot herself made a very rare public appearance following the release of Throne into Britain’s bookstores, saying that Black had misinterpreted her quote and demanded that the book be stripped from the shelves.  After a long court battle, the Wizengamot proclaimed that Bagshot was correct in her assumption that Aknadin was a mage, though did not grant her request to have Throne removed from publication Instead, the second and third issues of Black’s book were heavily edited and significantly more factual ( _Black v. Bagshot_ , 1944).   
  
Percival Selwyn gives us the best claim to support the idea of Aknadin the Mage and was included as a member of Bagshot’s legal team.  While he does not believe that Aknadin existed, Selwyn sites early wizarding records of mages with dark intentions cropping up in various cultures around the world, using the Signers of Nazca as an example.  He tells us that, at least on a literary level, keeping Aknadin as a mage makes sense, considering that the wizarding world has yet to discover records of mages who had performed a deed worthy of looking at them as anything other than evil ( _Tales of the Eternal_ , 1943).   
  
**5\.  The Fact Behind Fiction**   
  
While many of these authors have given us a glimpse into the world the Three Kings may have inhabited, it is up those who come after them to figure out whether or not which aspects of their stories we chose to believe.   
  
For the most part, I do agree with Bagshot’s proposed period for the legend to have taken place.  The Amarna Period has been confirmed as the birthplace of wizarding magic and it only fits for the Kings to have ruled within this era.  I also accept the commonly believed and easily proven fact that the King were all born in the ancient city of Thebes.   
  
Percival Selwyn has also made some excellent points about the Kings, pointing out that the King Commander’s ascension to the throne may have been based in an attempted coup, using his marriage to the Lady Pharaoh as a stepping stone to achieve his goals.  However, this is all that I agree on when it comes to Selwyn.   
  
Selwyn has not considered all of the facts concerning the period in which the King Commander and his royal wife may have sat the throne.  He has not looked at the state of the Egyptian economy at the end Aknamkanon’s reign, nor has he seen what it was at the beginning of Seth’s.   
  
The documents left behind by the scripts of Aknamkanon’s royal court tell us that the Pharaoh was severely in debt, having squandered his father’s fortunes on parties and feasts for his enjoyment.  It is even hinted in Beedle’s original tale that he may have fallen gravely ill in the years leading up to his death, causing me take a closer look that the murals depicting Aknamkanon. I noted the distinctly feminine hips and slender torso, making me wonder if his sister-wife, Mukarramma, had been playing the role of Pharaoh during the latter half of her brother’s reign.   
  
It is possible that Mukarramma had wanted to be succeeded by her daughter and not her son, setting her up with an advantageous marriage to a high ranking military commander to provide her with protection.  Perhaps Black was on the right track when she wrote that the Lady Pharaoh might have reigned in her own right, I believe that she may have missed the mark ever so slightly - the King Commander and Lady Pharaoh ruled as a ruling married couple.   
  
During the two year gap when Kitamori believes that the Kings may have reigned, the economic bankruptcy that had plagued Egypt for decades ended.  So by the time that Seth stepped up to the throne, he was left with vaults of gold and allies across the known world. The King Commander and Lady Pharaoh may have taken the throne from Seth, but what they did with the time that they had it changed the fate of the dynasty.   
  
As for how the Thief King fits into all of this, I want that Beedle got it right: that he was the King Commander’s closest friend and an equal in all aspects of political power who loved the Lady Pharaoh from afar.  However, that is not likely the case. In far too many alternative versions of the tale that have been found across the world, the Lady Pharaoh and Thief King are often in bed with one another (an interesting Shang dynasty legend believed that they had married each other, instead of the King Commander).  All evidence points to an affair held behind the King Commander’s back, which might have lead to a disastrous end to their reign if not for the imminent threat of Aknadin.   
  
While Selwyn may dismiss Aknadin as a literary invention by Pharaoh Seth to preserve his sister’s honour, I do not.  He may have been the twin brother of Aknamkanon that Black believed him to be, fixated on taking the crown to create his mage Empire.  I even go as far as to dismiss Bagshot’s claims that the fight that took place between the Kings and Aknadin was nothing more than “a glorified battle of red and green sparks” (A History of Magic, 1947, issue 1).  During my trips to Egypt, I discovered evidence of a---   
  
***THE REMAINDER OF THIS UNPUBLISHED THESIS HAS BEEN RIPPED AWAY AND THE PAGE THROWN OUT.  ATTACHED TO THIS UNFINISHED WORK IS A LETTER OF EMPLOYMENT FROM THE DEPARTMENT OF MYSTERIES***


	2. The House of Black

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adapted from the Harry Potter wiki, this family tree follows the great and noble House of Black from Cygnus Black to 2014.
> 
> Bolded names indicate the status of the Black Family heirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Yu-gi-oh! Duel Monsters is owned by Kazuki Takahashi, Studio Gallop, Nihon Ad Studios, and TV Tokyo. Harry Potter is owned by J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Arthur A. Levine Books, and Warner Bros. Please support the official releases.
> 
> Warning: Mentions of incest and minor character death.

**{CYGNUS BLACK}** ; (1829-1851)

  * His wife, {ELLA BLACK nee Max}; (1829-1883)
  * Their children:
    * Their son,  **{SIRIUS BLACK I}** ; (1845-1853)
    * Their son,  **{PHINEAS BLACK I}** ; (1847-1925) 
      * His wife, {URSULA BLACK nee Flint}; (1849-1935)
      * Their children:
        * Their son, **{SIRIUS BLACK II}** ; (1877-1952)
          * His wife, HESPER BLACK nee Gamp; (1877-1958)
          * Their children:
            * Their son,  **{ARCTURUS BLACK II}** ; (1901-2012)
              * His wife, MELANIA BLACK nee MacMillan; (1913-present)
              * Their children:
                * Their daughter, {LUCRETIA PREWETT nee Black}; (1936-2003)
                  * Her husband, IGNATIUS PREWETT; (1932-present)
                  * Their children:
                    * Their son, {FABIAN PREWETT}; (1965-2000)
                    * Their son, {GIBEON PREWETT}; (1967-2000)
                    * Their daughter, MOLLY WEASLEY nee Prewett; (1971-present) 
                      * Her husband, ARTHUR WEASLEY; (1971-present)
                      * Their children: 
                        * Their son, WILLIAM "Bill" WEASLEY; (1991-present)
                        * Their son, CHARLES "Charlie" WEASLEY; (1993-present)
                        * Their son, PERCY WEASLEY; (1997-present)
                        * Their son, FRED WEASLEY; (1999-present)
                        * Their son, GEORGE WEASLEY; (1999-present)
                        * Their son, RONALD "Ron" WEASLEY; (2001-present)
                        * Their daughter, GINEVRA "Ginny" WEASLEY; (2002-present)
                * Their son,  **{ORION BLACK}** ; (1950-2000)
                  * His wife, {WALBURGA BLACK}; (1946-2006)
                  * Their children:
                    * Their son,  **SIRIUS BLACK III** ; (1980-present)
                    * Their son, {REGULUS BLACK III}; (1982-2000)
            * Their daughter, {LYCORIS BLACK}; (1906-1986)
            * Their son, {REGULUS BLACK}; (1906-1980
        * Their son, {PHINEAS BLACK II}; (1881-1968)
        * Their son, {CYGNUS BLACK II}; (1889-1943)
          * His wife, {VIOLETTA BLACK nee Bulstrode}; (1892-1979)
          * Their children:
            * Their son, {POLLUX BLACK}; (1912-2011)
              * His wife, IRMA BLACK nee Crabbe; (1912-present)
              * Their children:
                * Their daughter, {WALBURGA BLACK}; (1946-2006) 
                  * Her husband,  **{ORION BLACK}** ; (1950-2000)
                  * Their children:
                    * Their son,  **SIRIUS BLACK III** ; (1980-present)
                    * Their son, {REGULUS BLACK III}; (1982-2000)
                * Their son, {ALPHARD BLACK}: 1957-2000)
                * Their son, CYGNUS BLACK; (1959-present)
                  * His wife, DRUELLA BLACK nee Rosier; (1960-present)
                  * Their children: 
                    * Their daughter, BELLATRIX LESTRANGE nee Black; (1972-present) 
                      * Her husband, RODOLPHUS LESTRANGE; (1970-present)
                    * Their daughter, ANDROMEDA TONKS nee Black; (1974-present)
                      * Her husband, EDWARD "Ted" Tonks; (1974-present)
                      * Their child: 
                        * Their daughter, NYMPHADORA TONKS; (1992-present)
                    * Their daughter, NARCISSA MALFOY nee Black; (1976-present)
                      * Her husband, LUCIUS MALFOY; (1975-present)
                      * Their child: 
                        * Their son, DRACO MALFOY; (2001-present)
            * Their daughter, {CASSIOPEIA ZABINI nee Black}; (1915-2013)
              * Her husband, {HERIUS ZABINI}; (1914-1999) 
                * For issue, see Italian Family Tree
            * Their son, {MARIUS BLACK}; (1917-1942)
            * Their daughter, {DOREA POTTER nee Black}; (1920-1996)
              * Her husband, {CHARLUS POTTER}; (1934-1996)
              * Their children: 
                * Their son, {EVAN POTTER}; (1955-1996) 
                  * His wife, {JOHANNA POTTER nee Slughorn}; (1955-1996)
                  * Their children: 
                    * Their daughter, {MINNIE POTTER}; (1981-1996)
                    * Their son, {TREVOR POTTER}; (1984-1996)
        * Their daughter, {BELVINA BURKE nee Black}; (1886-1962)
          * Her husband, {HERBERT BURKE}; (1885-1967)
          * Their children:
            * Their son, {CARACTACUS BURKE II}; (1907-1997)
            * Their son, {HAULFRUN BURKE}; (1909-2007)
            * Their daughter, {ROSETTA GREENGRASS nee Burke}; (1913-2010)
              * Her husband, {BRINLEY GREENGRASS}; (1912-1998)
              * Their child: 
                * THeir son, {LAURENCE GREENGRASS}; (1936-1999) 
                  * His wife, LOUISA GREENGRASS nee Parkinson; (1940-present)
                  * Their child: 
                    * Their son, MAXWELL GREENGRASS 
                      * His wife, CLARICE GREENGRASS nee Abbott; (1967-present)
                      * Their children: 
                        * Their daughter, DAPHNE GREENGRASS; (2001-present)
                        * Their daughter, ASTORIA GREENGRASS; (2003-present)
        * Their son, {ARCTURUS BLACK}; (1884-1959)
          * Their wife, {LYSANDRA BLACK nee Yaxley}; (1884-1967)
          * Their children: 
            * Their daughter, {CALLIDORA LONGBOTTOM nee Black}; (1905-1944) 
              * Her husband, {HARFANG LONGBOTTOM}; (1905-1944)
              * Their children: 
                * Their son, {THEODORE LONGBOTTOM}; (1929-2000) 
                  * His wife, AUGUSTA LONGBOTTOM nee Selwyn; (1950-present)
                  * Their child: 
                    * Their son, FRANCIS "Frank" LONGBOTTOM; (1980-present) 
                      * His wife, ALICE LONGBOTTOM nee Travers; (1980-present)
                      * Their child: 
                        * Their son, NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM; (2001-present)
                * Their daughter, ENID FAWLEY nee Longbottom; (1937-present)
                  * Her husband, ALGIE FAWLEY; (1932-present)
                  * Their children: 
                    * Their son, CECIL FAWLEY; (1963-present) 
                      * His wife, JOAN FAWLEY nee Cox; (1963-present)
                    * Their son, {WILLIAM FAWLEY}; (1968-1997)
            * Their daughter, {CEDRELLA WEASLEY nee Black}; (1917-1975)
              * Her husband, {SEPTIMUS WEASLEY}; (1940-1991)
              * Their children: 
                * Their son, ARTHUR WEASLEY; (1971-present) 
                  * His wife, MOLLY WEASLEY nee Prewett; (1971-present)
                  * Their children: 
                    * Their son, WILLIAM "Bill" WEASLEY; (1991-present)
                    * Their son, CHARLES "Charlie" WEASLEY; (1993-present)
                    * Their son, PERCY WEASLEY; (1997-present)
                    * Their son, FRED WEASLEY; (1999-present)
                    * Their son, GEORGE WEASLEY; (1999-present)
                    * Their son, RONALD "Ron" WEASLEY; (2001-present)
                    * Their daughter, GINEVRA "Ginny" WEASLEY; (2002-present)
                * Their son, WALLACE WEASLEY; (1973-present)
                * Their son, BILIUS WEASLEY; (1975-present)
            * Their daughter, {CHARIS CROUCH nee Black}; (1919-1994)
              * Her husband, {CASPAR CROUCH}; (1917-1978)
              * Their children: 
                * Their son, BARTEMIUS "Barty" CROUCH I; (1955-present) 
                  * His wife, {GWENDOLYN CROUCH nee Parkinson}; (1957-2002)
                  * Their child: 
                    * Their son, BARTEMIUS "Barty" CROUCH II; (1982-present)
                * Their daughter, {TERESA CARROW nee CROUCH}; (1958-2000)
                  * Her husband, {CHRISTOPHER CARROW}; (1958-2000)
                  * Their children: 
                    * Their daughter, ALECTO CARROW; (1977-present)
                    * Their son, AMYCUS CARROW; (1980-present)
                * Their daughter, ELERI FLINT; (1961-present)
                  * Her husband, IAN FLINT; (1961-present)
                  * Their child: 
                    * Their son, BENJAMIN FLINT; (1979-present) 
                      * His wife, ROSALIND FLINT nee Nott; (1979-present)
                      * Their child: 
                        * Their son, MARCUS FLINT; (1996-present)
    * Their daughter, {ELLADORA BLACK}; (1850-1931)
    * Their daughter, {IOLA HITCHENS}; (1815-1957)
      * Her husband, {ROBERT "Bob" HITCHENS}; (1849-1952)



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will be posted in list format on ao3. For paragraph format, please visit my fanfiction account of the same name.
> 
> The Italian family tree will eventually be posted. But because of how complex it is due to the inbreeding, it will have its own separate chapter.
> 
> I know that this is not the update that you were expecting, but I've had to take a break from the internet for my mental health because of recent events that had taken place in my country. For those of you who don't know, on April 23rd, a man used a van to drive down one of Toronto's busiest roads, purposefully using it to run over pedestrians - specifically targeting women. In the investigation that followed, it has been revealed that he was a membered of the 'Incel' community, a group of men who violently hate women for not having sex with them.
> 
> Toronto is my city, which is why I chose it as the home base for Leo and the Jackals. I can't tell you how many times I've walked down the same road that this monster took to commit murder. I have friends and family that live and work in the area. Thankfully, everyone that I know is alright. And no matter how shaken we've all been, Toronto is coming together to help each other heal.
> 
> Thank you to Office Ken Lam. I know you said that you were just doing your job, but that doesn't mean you are not a hero. Thank you for giving the families of those affected by this tragedy a chance at justice.
> 
> If you have the ability, please donate to the Toronto Van Attack Victims Fund on GoFundMe or donate blood to the Red Cross.
> 
> Thank you. I hope to get a new chapter of Resist out soon.


	3. Toujours Purs: Bellatrix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve never used an Unforgivable before… Bellatrix muses. And then, It’s true what they say. You do have to mean them.
> 
> \---
> 
> Part One of the Toujour Purs series.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer (1): Yu-gi-oh! Duel Monsters is owned by Kazuki Takahashi, Studio Gallop, Nihon Ad Studios, and TV Tokyo. Harry Potter is owned by J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Arthur A. Levine Books, and Warner Bros. Please support the official releases.
> 
> Disclaimer (2): Star Wars is owned by Lucusfilm.
> 
> Warning: Mentions of parental abandonment, white nationalist doctrine, cults, branding, pregnancy, child marriages, child pregnancy, miscarriages, stillbirths, arranged marriages, incest, racism, classism, torture, dehumanization, alcohol, underaged drinking, character death, violence, blood, gore, hanging, homophobia, forced heteronormativity, slut shaming, familial banishing, misgendering, sexual situations, bullying, fat shaming, slavery, sexism, false rape accusations, impregnation, magical surgery, child murder, imprisonment, psychological torture, abandonment, and child kidnapping.

Bellatrix Black is not born a monster.

She comes into this world on a quiet Saturday in June.  The sun is shining, the birds are singing, and her mother, Druella, cries tears of joy when she holds her baby girl in her arms.  Druella names Bellatrix after her own mother, Belladonna Rosier, and promises to protect her for the rest of her life.

Bellatrix’s favourite story growing up is Babbitty Rabbitty, and her favourite colour is bright orange.  She can sing, play the harp, and dances like a dream. She paints with her fingers, threads flowers into crowns, and wants to have a family of her own one day.

Bellatrix Black is not born a monster.  But she becomes one.

* * *

 

Bellatrix is two years old when she meets her first best friend.  She is four when she meets her second.

She remembers sneaking out of her room at night to stare into their cribs, watching in silent wonder at how Andromeda’s tiny hands would grasp at her blankets, how Narcissa would make little huffing noises as she slept.

 _They are so small_ , Bellatrix thinks.   _Someone needs to protect them._

The night after Narcissa utters her first word (a long stream of “Pa!  Pa!” that had her mother in near tears), Bellatrix sneaks into her room and finds that she is not alone.

Her father, Cygnus Black is a hard man of eighteen, tall and thin with thick dark hair and even darker eyes.  His sharp cheekbones are illuminated in the moonlight, casting shadows across his young face. Bellatrix stares at him, drinking in his features.  She doesn’t see him often, only on holidays and birthday weekends and the summer months.

 _His education takes precedence, even over our happiness,_ Druella had told her when Bellatrix had asked where he was.   _Your father must be strong for the battles to come._

Cygnus smiles when he sees her and holds out his hand, drawing her into his lap.  She plays with the green and silver tie hanging around his neck as he rubs comforting circles into her back.

“Are you coming home?” Bellatrix asks, gripping her father’s cloak.  She misses him dearly every time he leaves to go back to Hogwarts, but he’s graduated now.  Perhaps it will finally be different.

But Cygnus shakes his head, “I’m sorry, Bella.  I can’t.”

“Why not?” She buries her face in his shoulder, “Mama wants you home, wants you here.  Andy and Cissy don’t even know what you look like. Why can’t you just--”

He places a finger on her lips, silencing her.  In her crib, Narcissa starts to whimper before letting out a rattling wail.  Cygnus lifts Bellatrix from his lap and sets her on the ground, then moves to pick her sister up.  He cradles Narcissa in his arms, resting her tiny head against his shoulder, and hums a lullaby until she falls back to sleep.

“There’s a storm coming, Bella.  It’s just over the horizon - and yet no one can see it,” Cygnus tells her as he slowly lays Narcissa back into her crib.  “If we don’t fight, our way of life with collapse with the Statute. And I can’t…” he pauses, reaching for Narcissa. Bellatrix watches as she grabs his finger, watches as tears appear in the corners of her father’s eyes, “I can’t let my babies grow up in a world where they aren’t safe.”

Cygnus turns back to Bellatrix, dropping to his knees and holding out his left arm.  He rolls his sleeve up to the elbow and allows her to see what has been branded onto his flesh.

“It’s _beautiful_ ,” Bellatrix whispers, her eyes wide with amazement as the jet black snake twists and turns on her father’s arm, as the hollow eyes of the skull stare into her soul.

“It’s called the Dark Mark.  It’s a sign of allegiance to our Lord, a sign that I am one of his most trusted advisors,” Cygnus tells her.  “The skull reminds us of our fallen brethren. But the snake shows us our path. And when the Mark burns hot, it is a call to fight for the wizarding world.”

“I want to fight, too!” Bellatrix says, young and earnest.  “I want to help you! I want to help our Lord!”

Cygnus shakes his head, “No, Bella.  That is not your destiny. If I have my way, you and your sisters will never have to spill a drop of blood.”

“But--”

“No.  This war… It will never touch you,” he presses a kiss to her forehead.  “I promise.”

Bellatrix wakes the next morning in her bed, her left forearm untouched.  Her mother stands by the front door of the Black family home, silent tears running down her cheeks.  Druella’s eyes show her sadness, but the strength of her shoulders express her pride in her husband’s choices, the swell of her belly tells of her commitment to her family.

Bellatrix does not see her father again for many years.

* * *

 

Miscarriages are common amongst the Black women.  Druella Black loses her husband’s fourth child shortly after his departure in a mess of blood and tears.  Bellatrix and Andromeda wait patiently at the table each morning for their mother to come out of her room, but she never does.

“What if she stays in there forever?” Andromeda asks, her eyes flicking up at the ceiling.

“She won’t.  She’s just tired,” Bellatrix answers, just like she did yesterday when her sister asked the same question.  Just as she had done the day before that and the day before that. “She’ll come down tomorrow.”

It is their aunt that finally draws Druella out from her confinement.  Walburga has had more than a dozen miscarriages and stillbirths since she married her cousin and heir presumptive to the Black family, Orion, nearly ten years ago.

“You married too young,” Bellatrix overheads Walburga say to her mother in a hushed tone.  “Eleven years old - what were your parents thinking?”

“I did my duty,” Druella says through tears and bloody sheet.  “I’ve always done my duty. I just did what I was told.”

“Much too young,” Walburga says again as she rubs her own pregnant belly.  Bellatrix knows that she is hoping for a son to carry on the Black name.

Walburga loses the baby.  And the next. And the next.

* * *

 

Bellatrix is eight years old when she is engaged to her newborn cousin.  She holds Sirius Black III in her arms and watches as he gurgles, reaching up to grab her hair.

“We need to join the two branches of the family together,” Walburga tells Bellatrix from her birthing bed in St. Mungo's.  Beside her, Orion Black holds his wife’s hand as he sits in his wheelchair and nods along as she continues, “We must take a leaf out of the Italian family’s book to preserve our way of life.  There’s too much intermingling these days, too much filth staining pure wizarding blood for us to look outside the family for Sirius’s match.”

“You will do your duty, Bella?” Orion asks.  He looks so much like Bellatrix’s father, all dark hair, dark eyes, and razor-sharp cheekbones.  But there is a delicacy to his motions that Cygnus never had, a gentle beauty that neither her mother nor her father had not passed down to their children.

 _It is said that those possessing the blood of the ancient families of Rome are so stunning that they are weighted on hand and foot by those of the lesser houses,_ Bellatrix thinks.  She hopes that Sirius will grow up to be as striking as his father and agrees to the match.

The next few days are a blur of visitors, each coming to pay their respects to the new heir to the noble House of Black.  Bellatrix greets each person with a graceful curtsy, her sister Andromeda a beat behind her as Narcissa clings to their skirts.

Bellatrix pushes Narcissa’s care onto one of the house elves so that she and Andromeda can stare through the railings of the stairs at those that pass beneath them.

“Which one do you think that you’re going to marry, Andy?” Bellatrix asks her sister as the ancient matriarch of House Greengrass, the Lady Rosetta, walks through the door.  Behind her trails her son, grandson, and great-grandson, their silvery blond hair shining in the morning glow. Rosetta Greengrass was a cousin of theirs, through an aunt that was once or twice removed.

Andromeda shrugs, a mischievous grin on her face, “Maybe I’ll run off with one of the Weasley boys.  Wouldn’t that be funny?”

Bellatrix rounds on her sister, “You will _not_ .  House Weasley is filled with blood traitors - everyone says so.  They’ll have your daughters marry _muggles_ , Andy!  Don’t you know what muggles _do_ to the witches they catch?”

“I was just joking--”

“But it’s not _funny_!” Bellatrix hisses.  “Papa always said that mudbloods turn witches into mages when they take them - everyone knows that.  If Mama or Auntie Walburga hears your saying things like that, they’ll have you burned off the family tree!  Then we wouldn’t be sisters anymore.”

Andromeda wrings her hands together, “A mark on the tree won’t stop us being sisters, Bella…”

“Yes, it will.  Don’t you see?” Bellatrix grips her sister by the shoulders, “Papa is fighting for us, fighting so that we never have to worry about muggles and mudbloods and mages--”

“I was just _joking!_ ” Andromeda cries again, wrenching herself from Bellatrix’s grasp.  “I’m not going to marry a Weasley. I promise, Bella.”

Bellatrix places her hands on her hips, “Good.”

After a few minutes of silence, Andromeda asks, “Do you really think that Papa is fighting right now?”

She looks at her sister and sees the hesitation in her voice.  Bellatrix realizes with startling clarity that Andromeda probably has no memory of Cygnus, has probably only seen him in the portraits kept around the house.

Bellatrix hopes that she can provide her with a few good ones, “He is.  For us. For our future.”

Her sister is engaged to Lucius Malfoy within three weeks of that conversation for his connections to the current Minister of Magic.  Two years later, Narcissa is matched to Rodolphus Lestrange, whose father owns St. Mungo's Hospital. Four years after that, Andromeda walks into the Slytherin common room with bright pink hair and Bellatrix, not knowing what else to do, sends an owl to her mother.

* * *

 

Bellatrix dives head first into her studies at Hogwarts, soaking up all the knowledge that she can.  She practices her spells, buries her nose between the pages of her books, and sends in half dozen applications to the Ministry of Magic in the hopes that she will be granted a Time-Turner to take more classes.  

Andromeda seems to slip away from her, disappearing behind closed doors for days at a time.  Her wands keep exploding on her and Bellatrix sends Ollivander’s a series of howlers, demanding that he fix the problem.  Something seems to change in Andromeda, a look in her eyes that makes Bellatrix think of an animal in a cage. She feels that it has something to do with how Slughorn partnered her with a mudblood for some school project.

Bellatrix complains, over and over again, but nothing happens.  The haunted look remains in her sister’s eyes, and the mudblood still snarls at Andromeda from the Hufflepuff table each night at supper.  And just when she thinks that she’s at the end of her robe, Bellatrix remembers.

 _We do not marry for love,_ Druella had told Narcissa when the girl had begged for her engagement to Rodolphus to end.   _Love does not hold a family together any more than wet paper.  Marriage is a contract between two great Houses, a web of alliances that bind us all together.  For when one of us is targeted, we all rise up to defend each other._

Quickly and quietly, Bellatrix approaches Rodolphus Lestrange, pleading for him to defend her sister, to honour the contract made between their Houses.

“Why not do it yourself?” He asks, his grey eyes flickering beneath his long brown hair.  There is a gentleness to his face that stands in stark contrast to the sharp bones that shift beneath his skin, reminding Bellatrix of Orion.  Rodolphus is startlingly handsome, but she refuses to think anything of it. He is promised to Narcissa, not her. And despite his oddities, Bellatrix is destined to marry her cousin.

“I don’t understand,” she answers.

“Don’t be so humble,” Rodolphus smiles, tilting his head to the side.  “You are the most brilliant witch of your age - everyone here knows it.  There’s yet to be a test that you can’t pass with flying colours. So, why not take care of this threat yourself?”

Bellatrix finds herself at a loss for words, unable to think of an answer.  She _should_ do this herself, not hand it off to someone else.  The blood of the noble and most ancient House of Black flowed through her veins, just like her father.  And if he had become a warrior to fight in the name of the Dark Lord, why couldn’t she?

That night, instead of waiting for Lucius and Rodolphus, Bellatrix sets out herself in search of the Hufflepuff common room.  She confunds the Squib caretaker and hangs him up by his ankles when he dares to report her to the Headmaster, stalking through the corridors until she reaches a stack of barrels that she knows guard the entrance.  Bellatrix cloaks herself in a Disillusionment Charm and waits.

The mudblood peaks his head outside the common room door sometime around midnight, quietly tiptoeing across the stone floor.  Bellatrix wastes no time and catches him with a curse, right between his shoulder blades. The mudblood goes down like a rock, clawing at his skin like there are ants just beneath the surface, tears streaming down his face.

Bellatrix reveals herself, standing over him and pointing her wand at his throat.

“I could do it,” she threatens, the corners of her mouth twitching.  “I could, and no one would care. No one would miss you.”

The mudblood _screams_ for help, but no one comes.

“Tell anyone about this and I will,” Bellatrix says, her blood humming in her veins.  She disappears again and leaves him to his misery.

The mudblood never stays anything.  And Bellatrix has never been prouder.

* * *

 

Rodolphus becomes a constant presence in Bellatrix’s life after that, often finding her in the library to talk to her.  She appreciates it, mainly since most of their conversations revolve around how to survive her OWLs.

“Last year was hell,” Rodolphus tells her one evening while she’s pouring over her Charms notes.  “Kettleburn lost his eye _again_ , so we had a substitute professor who couldn’t do anything right - though that’s not surprising, considering…” he trails off unexpectedly.  Bellatrix looks up just in time to see the odd look pass over his face. She raises an eyebrow, prompting Rodolphus to continue.

He glanced around and leans forward, whispering, “Considering that she’s a mudblood who probably didn’t know a fairy from a bowtruckle.”

Bellatrix grins, a small chuckle escaping her lips.  She appreciates Rodolphus’s honesty almost as much as she enjoys his friendship.  But they do have to be quiet about their beliefs. There had been an attack last week - fifteen muggles had been killed and strung from the roofs of their mudswamp homes.  Bellatrix likes to think that her father had been responsible, likes to think that he’d led the attack with the Mark blazing on his left forearm.

“Why not ask your brother to help you study?” Bellatrix asks coyly.

Rodolphus groans dramatically, slumping back in his chair, “Rabastain’s more interested in going to Slughorn’s boring parties than he is about learning _anything_.”

“I’ve gone to a couple.  They’re not that bad.”

“You’ve gone _unescorted_ , Lady Black?  How scandalous!”  He says with a playful grin, “What would your poor fiance have to say about that?”

Bellatrix rolls her eyes and turns back to her notes, “Sirius is eight.  He’s more interested in playing with his toy broomstick than he is about girls.

“Isn’t there one coming up soon?”  He asks, and Bellatrix makes an agreeing noise.  “Want to go with me?”

Bellatrix levels him with a sharp glare, “I’m not going to be your mistress, Lestrange.  You are promised to Narcissa, not me.”

Rodolphus waves his hands in surrender, “I’m asking as a friend.  And if it makes you more comfortable, we can both bring a chaperone.”  He offers her one of his gentle smiles that she can never stay mad at, “I only ask because I enjoy our talks.  But if you don’t want to, there’s no pressure.”

Bellatrix sighs and flips the page of her notes, “As long as there are chaperones.”

“You should bring your sisters.  I’ll bring Lucius, considering that my brother will already be there.  We’re all going to be in-laws one day, so we might as well get to know each other,” he says.

“You know, for someone who thinks that the Slug Club parties are boring, you sure do seem to be interested in going to one,” she calls him out.  When a blush spreads across his cheeks, she realizes it, “You haven’t got an invite!"

“I do, too!”

“Prove it!”

“...No.”

Bellatrix grins at him, “What did you do to get _banned_ from the Slug Club?”

Rodolphus looks thoroughly embarrassed, “I may have… spiked the punch.”

She throws her head back and laughs so hard that Madam Pince throws them out.

* * *

 

Narcissa looks absolutely radiant in her flowing pink dress robes, her dainty feet wrapped into silver silk slippers as she flits across the floor of Slughorn’s office.  Beside her, Bellatrix feels almost boarish in her heavy red velvet gown.

 _At least_ , she thinks, glancing at Andromeda, _I don’t look like I’d rather sink through the floor._

Dread radiates off Andromeda like a physical stench, her usually light brown eyes stained black.  Bellatrix swears that she sees something _shift_ under her sister’s skin, rippling up and down her arms as she rubs them in her anxiety.  But she ignores it, figures that she’ll ask about it later, because the boys have just walked inside the room.

Lucius seems to light up, his pale eyes shining as he approaches them.  Rodolphus provides the introductions, and Bellatrix watches as Lucius takes Andromeda by the hand, pressing his lips to her fingers.  She tries to forget how Andromeda wipes her hand clean when he lets go, tries to ignore how Lucius’s eyes seem to wander over to their younger sister.

Rodolphus allows Bellatrix to lead him toward Narcissa.  They exchange pleasantries in practiced motions and make conversation as she looks on.  Bellatrix doesn’t even notice his approach until Rabastan taps her on the shoulder.

“So…” Rodolphus’s twin grins at her and presses a glass of something bubbly into her hand, “You’re the girl that my brother won’t shut up about.”

Rabastan Lestrange has Rodolphus’s looks but none of his quiet beauty.  He reminds her of her father, his face illuminated the cold moonlight.

Bellatrix offers him a polite smile, “And you must be the brother that he’s barely spoken a word about.”

“Feisty little thing, aren’t you?  I can see why he likes you,” Rabastan laughs.  “Well… He likes you much more than your baby sister.  She’s a pretty face to look at, but they do seem to _bore_ each other.”

Bellatrix raises an eyebrow, “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean that if they ever actually get married, they are going to be the dullest couple to ever grace the great families of Britain,” Rabastan rolls his eyes.  “Thank god that marriage isn’t in the cards for me.”

“I was under the impression that you were engaged as well - to the Macmillan girl.”

“Amalia and I have an agreement, one that will remain between the two of us,” Rabastan winks at her, his lavender dress robes brings out the colour in his eyes.  Amalia stands off to the side, chatting up the two Selwyn sisters. Bellatrix’s eyes widen.

“Does your brother know?”

Rabastan shrugs, “We stand on common ground.  Dolph has his own secrets, some of which I’m sure he would love to share with you, my lady.”

“Dolph is my friend.”

“I never said that he wasn’t,” Rabastan retorts coyly.  “Friends do share secrets with each other. Which makes me wonder…” He lets his gaze travel over to where Lucius and Andromeda are standing awkwardly next to each other, “How long has your sister been a metamorphmagus?”

Bellatrix grabs Rabastan by the arm and drags him into an alcove, pressing her wand into his stomach.

“How did you--”

“Figure it out?  It’s not hard. She can never seem to settle on which eye colour she likes,” Rabastan says, sarcasm permeating his entire being.  “Though it is odd that _she_ is one, but not you or your baby sister…” He grins, “Or that metamorphmagus abilities have managed to stay out of the pureblood lines, considering our tendency to marry our own.  Tell me, Bella: did your mother take a lover in her loneliness, or is dear Andy a bastard your father brought home from his adventures--”

Bellatrix fires her curse point blank, quickly following it up with a silencing charm so Rabastan can’t scream.  The boy does fall to his knees, his back arching unnaturally as he writhes at her feet.

 _I’ve never used an Unforgivable before…_ Bellatrix muses.  And then, _It’s true what they say.  You do have to_ mean _them._

“My sister is as true blooded as you or I, Lestrange.  And do not think that because we will soon be family that I will not hesitate to remove your distasteful tongue if it keeps telling lies,” she threatens and something hot courses through her veins.  She wonders if her father felt the same way the first time he cast a Cruciatus Curse.

“Well, if she is your sister, then how’d she inherit that power?” Rabastan gasps, “Maybe she’s not a shifter.  Maybe she’s the thing that we all don’t talk about.”

A pit forms in Bellatrix’s stomach, ice cold and all-consuming.  She’s never put any thought into it - mainly because, if she did, then she would come to the same conclusion that Rabastan has.

“She’s not a filthy mage,” she hisses, pressing her wand into his neck.   _I could do it.  It would be so easy.  Just a flash of green and he’d be gone.  I already know the words._

Rabastan smacks her wand away and stands, straightening his robes out with shaking hands.

“Figure out what side you’re on, Black.  Those who don’t side with us will be against us,” he warns her, his voice betraying his lack of confidence.  But then, his lips twitch upwards, and he says, “Though, I think I know where you will land at the end of the day.”

Bellatrix leaves him and rejoins the party.

It’s fun enough, in her opinion - especially once Rodolphus spikes the punch again with something that he’d smuggled in from Hogsmeade.  Bellatrix likes the buzz that it gives her, likes the way it makes the room seem to swirl.

She dances with anyone who asks for her hand, though she makes them grovel a bit for her attention first.  Evan Rosier brings her chocolates and steps on her feet, while Lucius tells her that Andromeda had bowed out of the party and that he was lonely.  Her future brother-in-law leads Bellatrix through two waltzes before Narcissa offers Lucius her favour and they twirl together for the rest of the night.

When the party breaks up around eleven, Bellatrix finds herself giggling in a corner with both of the Lestrange brothers and Amalia Macmillan, making snide comments about how dumpy Molly Prewett couldn’t hold her liquor and how some mudblood brat from Gryffindor had thought that she was worthy of Rodolphus’s attention just because she played Quidditch.

“Hey,” Amalia turns to them.  “Want to get out of here?”

“And go where?” Rodolphus asks, “We’re already past curfew.  And with the attacks last week, no one’s going to let us just walk out the front gates.”

Amalia rolls her eyes, “Don’t you know anything about Hogwarts?  There’s always a way to leave, if you look hard enough.”

Amalia leads down to the fifth-floor corridor and around a corner, stopping before a statue of Gregory the Smarmy.  She pokes at the statue with her wand, muttering something under her breath, and the frozen contents of Gregory’s stone cauldron melt away, revealing a hole just large enough for a single person to slide through into a secret passageway.

“Come on,” Rabastan says as he disappears into the cauldron, letting out a whoop that echoes off the walls.

“What are these?” Bellatrix asks after she slips through, marveling at the massive tunnel system that they seem to be walking through.  “There’s no way that these are built into the castle.”

“It’s probably the same magic that they use to make Undetectable Extension Charms,” Amalia tells her.  “Technically, we’re in the floor between the fifth and fourth corridors.” She sighs in wonder, “I haven’t really had the chance to map everything out, but these tunnels run through every wall, every nook and cranny.”

“I wonder why they were built,” Rabastan asks.

“Evacuation, probably,” Rodolphus says suddenly.  Bellatrix makes a confused sound and he continues, pointing up at the ceiling to where another entrance point was visible.  “Look. There’s one of those every fifty or so paces. If Hogwarts was ever attacked, you could smuggle the entire population of the school down here and no one would be the wiser.”

“Or you could use them to transport troops within the walls,” Bellatrix points out.

“Or both,” Rabastan agrees.

“This way,” Amalia tells them, leading them down a flight of stairs and through an archway.

They pop out into a small village square in front of a giant clock tower.  The paved muggle streets are bare at this time of night, the only illumination being from the ghastly electric lamps that sprout from the sidewalk.

Beside her, Rodolphus bristles, the loathing evident in his voice, “Why are we _here_?”

But Bellatrix catches the look in Amalia’s eyes.  She thinks of her father, far away and fighting for their way of life, for a future where they didn’t have to live under the bootheels of their muggle oppressors.  And she smiles.

They find a corner house just off the main street, only a few steps away from a primary school.  There’s a greenhouse in the backyard and a brown picket fence surrounding a few of green grass out back.  Plastic children’s toys litter the side of the house and Bellatrix seethes at the sight. Those who had stayed within the walls of 12 Grimmauld Place were never granted the luxury of playing in the backyard out of fear that their children might say something to provoke the wrath of their muggle neighbours.

There’s a light on in one of the upper bedrooms and one down in the kitchen.  Bellatrix grips her wand tight and blasts open the door.

They don’t kill them all, not at first.  She and Rodolphus body bind the father and prop him up against the kitchen wall.  They make him watch as Amalia plays with his wife, forcing the woman to slowly slice away at their daughter’s skin while the little girl chokes on her own severed tongue.  Above them, Rabastan hangs the two teenage boys from the staircase banister, chuckling as their legs kick in their final gasping moments.

When the children finally die, Amalia and Rabastan float the father’s frozen body back upstairs to have their fun, leaving Rodolphus and Bellatrix with the mother.

So they practice their spells, bouncing charms and curses and jinxes off the woman’s form, just to see what would happen.  The muggle is so stupid, mindlessly crying and clawing her way toward some supposed freedom, leaving a trail of her own filth in her wake.  It’s easy to hate her, easy to despise her very existence, because at this point, Bellatrix doubts she’s even human.

Sometime around two o’clock in the morning, Bellatrix finally gets bored of her.  So she aims her wand, pictures the muggle dead, and says, “ _Avada Kedavra._ ”

There is a flash of green, a thump, and then silence.  Bellatrix is almost disappointed by how easy it was.

“Well, that was anticlimactic,” Rodolphus says with a roll of his eyes.  “Come on, let’s find the liquor cabinet.”

They sit outside on the back steps, passing a bottle of scotch between them as they stare out at the night sky.  Bellatrix leans back and thinks of her father, wondering if he was looking up at the same stars beside the Dark Lord himself.

“Do you think the Dark Lord takes women into his armies?” She asks suddenly.  Rodolphus makes a confused grunt. “Grindelwald did, but other Dark Lords didn’t.  Something about how they needed to stay home and raise the next generation.”

“He definitely does,” Rodolphus tells her.  He pauses, staring at the ground, rolling the neck of the scotch bottle between his hands.  “He let my mother join.”

Bellatrix blinks at him in surprise.  From what she’d heard about the Lestrange family, Rodolphus’s mother had run off one dark night, never to be heard of again.

“My father, he couldn’t.  He wanted to, but if he left his post at St. Mungo's, then it would bring questions down on the family.  We couldn’t support the Dark Lord openly, so we did so in secret, using my mother as a way to move medical supplies.  I remember the day she left,” Rodolphus takes a swig of the scotch and passes it to Bellatrix. “I was so proud to be her son.  I still am.”

“What happened to her?” Bellatrix asks.

A broken laugh escapes Rodolphus lips, “She died.  The information they’d gotten was wrong. So instead of walking into a muggle house, they were set upon by mages.”

 _Mages_ , Bellatrix thinks, her mouth tasting of acid.   _An ancient enemy that we’ve never truly managed to vanquish.  They’ve always sided with muggles and mudbloods, always lived amongst them.  Except_ … She remembers that mages had found a way to infiltrate wizarding households, using their rotten power to infect their pureborn children.  Supposedly, the Department of Mysteries had recently discovered a way to reverse the illness, but Bellatrix isn’t quite sure that it works.

 _Andy is not one of them_ , she thinks vehemently, trying to ignore the prodding thoughts of the mudblood that followed her sister around.   _She can’t be._

Rather than voice her troubles, Bellatrix places a hand on Rodolphus’s arm, “I’m sorry.”

He looks at her, his expression soft, “The Dark Lord avenged her himself.  And then he brought her home to us, so that we could bury her in our crypts.  He cares about our people, more than any Ministry of Magic ever has. And for that, he has my support."

“You sound like you’re in love with him, Dolph,” Bellatrix teases, but Rodolphus doesn’t laugh.

“You would be too, if you ever met him.”

He motions for her to give him back the scotch bottle.  Their fingers brush as it passes between them and for a second, Bellatrix thinks that he’s going to kiss her.  For a second, she doesn’t think that she would mind.

But he doesn’t, merely takes a long swig from the bottle and asks, “Are you going to join up?”

She doesn’t answer him right away, but when she does, it’s with a single, decisive nod.

“Good,” Rodolphus tells her.  “Because I am, too.”

* * *

 

She meets the Dark Lord three months later and finally understands what Rodolphus meant when he said that she would fall in love with him.

Lord Voldemort moves like a wisp of silk, his skin so pale that he seemed to glow with an ethereal light.  His elegant black robes were embroidered with hints of silver and from the sleeves sprang thin, spider-like fingers tipped with long, blue fingernails.  Bellatrix loses herself in his bright red eyes, in his flowing dark hair, in the not-quite-human features of his face.

At her side, Rodolphus and Rabastan lean toward the Dark Lord, unable to contain their desire to be at his side.  Even Amalia and Lucius, who have no desire for men, seem to stare at him in wonder.

The five of them had been chosen by the Lord himself, picked out from the talentless masses to be tutored in the Dark Arts.  When Bellatrix told her mother, Druella had written her praises, encouraging her every step of the way.

“You were always your father’s daughter,” Druella had told her.  “If you see him, tell him that I miss him. Tell him that I am proud.”

Walburga had written her as well, telling her to thank the Dark Lord for his offer of tutelage, but to say to him that her place was at home with her husband-to-be and raising his children, like gentle Narcissa did.  

Bellatrix had burned both their letters and thinks, _Why can’t I do both?_

The Dark Lord’s training is harsh and demanding, but it forges the five of them into the weapons that they need to be so that they may serve the wizarding world in the wars to come.  Between their days at Hogwarts and their nights learning from the Lord, there is barely a moment to sleep, let alone enjoy themselves. But still, Rodolphus finds a way, drawing up schedules so that they never fall behind and look too suspicious in the eyes of their professors.

Bellatrix ribs him about his dull, bookish habits over a cup of coffee in the burnt out hull of a muggle soup kitchen, her feet resting on the back on the wandless wretch that serves as her stool.  Rodolphus fires a killing curse into the chest of the muggle he’d been practicing his _Imperio_ on and tells her that she’s one to talk.

 _It would be easy to love Rodolphus,_ Bellatrix realizes later.  He was handsome, kind, and witty in a way that never seemed to bore her.  He possessed an aura of gentleness that she’d always found attractive in men, of grace even in the heat of battle.   _Except…_

She doesn’t love Rodolphus.  And he doesn’t love her, as both their eyes never stray far from Lord Voldemort.  One night while they sneak out of the castle, they even talk about it, about what it would be like to give themselves to him - wholly and completely.  It’s the frankest and honest conversation that Bellatrix has had in a long time and she doesn’t think that she would have been comfortable to have it with anyone other than Rodolphus.  He doesn’t think less of her for talking about sex, about her desires for someone she will never marry. And she doesn’t see him as any less of a man for wanting their Lord on top of him, inside of him.

He’s her best friend and she is his.  And no matter what the world throws at them, that is never going to change.

* * *

 

Andromeda is caught soiling herself beneath the mudblood boy a week after Bellatrix graduates Hogwarts.  Orion Black gathers the family for a meeting in the drawing room and sits in his wheelchair beneath the tapestry that depicts their great and noble ancestry back to the time of Merlin.

Bellatrix is arranging the skirts of her robes in a way that she hopes is elegant, pointedly ignoring how immature Sirius is making faces at his younger brother, Regulus, from across the table when Andromeda walks in.  Druella gasps, her hand clutching the pearls around her neck, at the sight of her second child.

Bellatrix doesn’t even recognize her sister.  Andromeda’s soft feminine face had been replaced with the straight lines of a man’s, a hint of stubble darkening her jawline.  Her eyes are a vivid orange and her slick-straight fluorescent green hair is so long that it brushes the floor. Andromeda has made herself taller than everyone in the room, her legs clothed in trousers and her flat chest sporting a shirt with an androgynous man with doves in his hair.

“Wicked!” Sirius breathes.  Andromeda doesn’t even get the chance to smile at him before Walburga drags her son from the room.

“What is the meaning of this?” Orion asks, pronouncing each word with careful precision.  Andromeda unceremoniously reveals that she is _chewing gum_ by popping a pale pink bubble.

“I don’t know.  Why don’t you guess?” She answers, her voice pitched unnaturally low.

“Andromeda Violetta Black, you will appear before your uncle as a proper witch of your station--” Druella starts, but Andromeda cuts her off.

“Well, considering that I’m _none_ of those things that you just mentioned, I don’t think that I’m going to.”

“Bella, what’s Andy talking about?” Narcissa whispers in Bellatrix’s ear.  She doesn’t answer. She _can’t_ answer.

“You are my daughter,” Druella hisses.  “And you will listen to me--”

Andromeda shouts, “You haven’t been my family since you sold me to the Department of Mysteries, since you let them--”

“It was for your own good--”

“Do you know what he did to me?!  What he wanted to do to me?!” Andromeda screams, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.  Her hair shifts wildly, becoming a blaze of red and yellow before completely falling off, leaving her head as smooth as an egg.  “If you think that what Pegasus put me through was _for my own fucking good_ \--”

“How dare you speak to your mother like that?  In the house of your forefathers!” Orion exclaims, his knuckles stark white as they clutch at the arms of his wheelchair.  “You are lucky that we didn’t just cast you out when we discovered your affliction. And this is how you repay us?”

“I’m not sick, uncle,” Andromeda tells them.  “I’m just a mage. And I’m proud of that.”

Narcissa gasps.  Druella looks sick to her stomach.  Orion is enraged. And Bellatrix…

Bellatrix is livid.

All she can think about is the lonely look on Rodolphus’s face when he told her about his mother, about how he’d missed her and loved her like Bellatrix missed her father--

Bellatrix wipes out her wand, pointing at Andromeda, and blasts her across the room.  The mage hits the wall with a deafening crunch, sliding to the floor where she lay hunched over, cradling her broken ribs.  The wand Andromeda used to carry rolls toward Bellatrix. She stamps down on the thin rod of wood, snapping it cleanly in half.

“ _How dare you?!_ ” Bellatrix roars, firing off another curse.  It clips Andromeda in the shoulder, tearing open her flesh and letting her traitorous blood leak out onto the carpet.  “ _Filth!  Mutant scum, how dare you befoul the house of my father--_ ”

“Sister--” Andromeda tries, but she will hear nothing of it.

“ _You don’t get to call me that!_ ” Bellatrix hisses and thinks of the mage dead.  There’s a flash of green and--

Andromeda _moves_ , her bones turning to paste as she twists herself unnaturally, avoiding Bellatrix’s Killing Curse by a hair.  Then, impossibly fast, she springs forward on legs that look utterly inhuman, kicking Bellatrix in the stomach and knocking her to the ground.

“I don’t need a wand to fight you, Bella,” Andromeda hisses, her hair sprouting from her head in thick tendrils that wrap themselves around Bellatrix’s limbs.  Bellatrix jerks, cutting herself free with a slash of her wand and unleashes a barrage.

They fight, back and forth across the sitting room, smashing windows and plates, tables and chairs.  Somewhere behind them, Narcissa is screaming, terrified and incoherent. But Bellatrix presses on, planting her feet and refusing to allow Andromeda gain a single inch.

 _I am the Dark Lord’s most faithful servant,_ she thinks as the mage begins to tire.   _I learned his craft from his own hand.  And I am not scared of you._

Bellatrix pins Andromeda to the wall like an insect on a board.  She stalks forward, intent on finishing it all.

“I told you.  I _told_ you, Andy.  You should have just listened,” Bellatrix says as her eyes begin to blur.  She’s crying, but she doesn’t know why. “Papa always said that mudbloods turned the witches that they take into mages.  Was it worth it? _Tell me!_  Was it worth destroying yourself?”

“You’re insane,” Andromeda spits in her face.  Bellatrix slaps her. The mage laughs using a mouth with too many teeth.  “I was _born a mage_ , Bella.  Fucking Ted had nothing to do with it.”

Bellatrix slaps her again, and this time she draws blood.

“I love him,” Andromeda tries again, sounding desperate.  “I love him so much and if you knew… If you knew what happened--”

“I don’t want your excuses, you traitorous piece of filth,” Bellatrix snarls.  “I should kill you. I should kill you and wipe the stain that you’ve left on this family clean.  It would be what my father would have wanted,” she screams, hiking up the sleeve on her left forearm to reveal a skull and snake brand.  “I serve Lord Voldemort, the heir of Slytherin and Speaker to Snakes! He has blessed his Mark! He would rejoice to hear that I’ve slain a monster like you!”

“Then do it.  Because I’d rather be dead than spend another second listening to your hate-filled _bullshit_!” Andromeda howls, tugging at her bindings as tears run down her cheeks.  Bellatrix points her wand at the mage

For the rest of her life, she will wonder why she isn’t able to do it.  The Dark Lord has taught her of the mistakes of mercy, shown her that it is not a gift to be given but a curse to befall you later.

 _They are not worth it, Bella,_ Lord Voldemort has whispered to her, his thin lips showing just the hint of a smile.   _They are a stain on this earth and threaten the health of our great family trees.  You have to cut the old bark away, so that the new can grow, healthy and fresh--_

But she can’t.  The words are on the tip of her tongue, but for the life of her, Bellatrix cannot utter them.  She swallows around the lump in her throat as Narcissa’s screams continue to echo behind her.

“Get.  Out,” Bellatrix hisses and the thing that was once her sister.  Andromeda’s eyes widen and her mouth opens to speak, but Bellatrix won’t let her.  “Go. Marry your diseased mudblood. Let him spoil you until there is nothing left but rot.  But know this, creature,” she steps into Andromeda’s space, her breath ghosting across the mage’s skin.  “You will never be safe. I will hunt you for the rest of your life. I will chase you to the ends of the earth, if I must.  And if the mudblood pollutes your womb and you whelp a child, I will hunt them, too. _You will never be safe, mage.  Never_!”

Bellatrix frees Andromeda from her bindings and turns her back, listening to the thing that was once her sister stand.  Bellatrix focuses her eyes on Narcissa, on her mother and her uncle, all of whom are staring like they don’t even recognize her.  For a second, she is thankful that Sirius is not here. She doubts that he would want to marry her if he had seen her weakness.

A blast is fired over her shoulder, just singeing the flesh of her skin.  She sees the flames hit the family tapestry directly between where Bellatrix’s and Narcissa’s likenesses have been woven into the fabric.

Bellatrix turns just in time to see the Veela-like features leave Andromeda’s face as a pair of scaled wings slide back into her shoulders.  The mage’s arm is outstretched, the skin of her palm smouldering.

“There,” Andromeda says, her eyes shining like amber.  “That’ll save you the trouble of doing it yourself.”

Bellatrix never sees her sister again.

* * *

 

Bellatrix walks down the aisle nearly a decade before she’d ever thought she would toward a man she never thought she’d marry.

 _We have to salvage our alliances,_ Walburga had said the night after Andromeda disappeared.   _Sirius is ten years old - there is time to find him a respectable pureblood match.  For now, we have to focus on our immediate future._

Walburga had seemed set to sit down with Malfoy’s to pitch an arrangement between Bellatrix and Lucius, ignoring Druella’s protests that a match with Sirius could still occur.  But then Narcissa had piped up, uncharacteristically nervous.

 _I should go to Lucius.  Give Bella to Rodolphus,_ her sister had said.   _The Lestrange boy adores her and…_ Narcissa had paused, as if surprised that she was being listened to, _If I were to marry him, we would have to wait until I was seventeen.  Both Bella and Rodolphus are of age. If our House is to have an alliance, shouldn’t it be sooner rather than later?_

Walburga agrees with her logic.  Druella is hesitant, still so set on joining the two branches of Black, but eventually, she gives her blessing.

And so Bellatrix is dressed in white flowing silk, a lace veil covering her face, and a bouquet of trailing ivy and bright yellow roses.  She takes small measured steps toward Rodolphus, feeling like she should smile. But all she feels is a pit in her stomach.

Rodolphus looks as confused as she is, staring at her like she’s got a second head throughout the entire ceremony.  They exchange the traditional vows before the officiant declared them bonded for life. They’re surrounded by a shower of silver sparks and - Bellatrix’s heart skips a beat - Rodolphus leans down to kiss her.

It’s her first kiss.  It’s short, sweet, and nothing like the grand fireworks that she’d expected as a girl.  She can feel Rodolphus’s hesitation as he moves his lips against her’s, like he’s scared.

The reception seems to drag on forever.  Bellatrix forces down a few mouthfuls of soup before she pushes it away.  Beside her on the dais, Rodolphus looks grey, using his fork to push his food around his plate instead of eating it.

Below them, Bellatrix spots Rabastan and Amalia, sees them holding hands and laughing with Narcissa and Lucius over some private joke.  Rabastan and Amalia had been married off the day after they’d left Hogwarts in a lavish ceremony at the Macmillan’s castle in the highlands of Scotland.  There had been separated breakfasts for both families and exchange of gifts before hosting the actual wedding in a field of purple heather beside a shimmering lake.  Amalia had been radiant in her white gown, her train travelling nearly ten feet behind her and held up by a half dozen house elves and Rabastan had _glowed_ when he set eyes on her.

 _There is no hope for love between them, and yet they are as happy as I’ve ever seen them,_ Bellatrix thinks ruefully.  She watches as Rabastan presses a kiss to his wife’s cheek and excuses himself from the table, heading over to greet one of their Goyle cousins with a knowing grin.

In comparison, Bellatrix’s own wedding was a hastily put together ceremony hosted by the Lestrange’s in their quaint family home in Hastings.  The old manor sat atop a small cliff under the guise of invisibility and looked over the mudswamp town below. They’d barely been able to drown out the noise that the muggle made and it sets Bellatrix’s teeth on edge.

Finally, Lysander Lestrange, Rodolphus’s elderly father, clinks his folk against his wine glass and, with a sly lilt in his smile, calls for the newly wedding couple to be sent to bed so that they may consummate their bond.  Their guests raise their wands as on and Bellatrix is lifted into the air, her feet kicking uselessly against the charm. Rodolphus joins her a second later and they are sent hurtling through the corridors toward what Bellatrix assumes is her new husband’s room.

She bounces when she hits the bed, letting out an unbecoming squawk, but clamps her jaw shut when she hears the door lock.

“Um…”

Bellatrix turns to see Rodolphus standing awkwardly on the other side of the room.  She takes a good look around, finding comfort in the familiar green and silver trappings of house Slytherin that lined his walls.  Above his bed hung a wood carved Lestrange Crest, their motto, _Antiqua et Aeterna_ , painted in their family colours of black and orange.  Rodolphus’s desk was piled high with medical texts, old school books, and a pair of tickets from a Puddlemere United game.  Over them hung a series of framed pressed flowers, a hobby that Bellatrix had known Rodolphus liked but had never actually seen him do it.

“Look… If you don’t want to…” Rodolphus begins, worriedly glancing at the door.  “We don’t have to do anything, Bella. It would be pretty easy to fake a romp in the sheets, considering how blasted everyone is right now.”

Bellatrix grips her arms, feeling almost naked under his gaze.  She doesn’t say anything.

“I know this wasn’t your choice and I'm not angry that you’re angry.  I get it. I never thought…” Rodolphus stumbles over his words. “I’d rather it be you than a traitor with mud between her legs, no that’s doesn’t sound right--” and Bellatrix remembers that the Lestrange’s _don’t know_ , that no one knows the truth about Andromeda’s banishment-- “I mean, I’d rather it be you than anyone else.  Your my best friend, Bella. And I don’t want to ruin that because someone got it into their head that we should--”

“Do you even _like_ women?” Bellatrix blurts out.  Rodolphus sputters to a halt, scrambling for words.

“I like women just fine.  Gender has never seemed to matter,” he finally manages to say, pink spreading across his cheekbones.

“Are you in love with me?” She asks, letting the vulnerability that she feels seep into her voice.

“You’re my friend--” Rodolphus tries again, but she cuts him off.

“Are you in love with me?” She stresses, bringing her gaze up to meet his.  Rodolphus sighs, looking wistful.

“Merlin, I _wish_ I was.  It would be so much easier.”

A laugh erupts from Bellatrix’s throat, “I wish I were, too.”

The line of Rodolphus’s shoulders seem to relax and he takes two long steps to cross the room, sitting on the bed beside her.  They thread their fingers together, marvelling in the paleness of their hands, the strength in their grasp.

Bellatrix turns her head and presses her lips against her husband’s, soft and sweet and a little bit sad.

“What was that for?” Rodolphus asks when they part, his voice a low rumble.

“You’re my best friend.  You’re the only person I trust to have at my back when we fight for the Dark Lord,” Bellatrix tells him.  She kisses him again. “My parents didn’t love each other when they were married, but they came to enjoy their bond.”  Bellatrix spreads her palms across her husband’s shoulders, pressing him down into the bed. “I say that that’s what we do.  We work together. We fight together. And when the war has ended…”

“When the war has ended?” He asks, cupping her face in his hands.  Bellatrix smiles.

“If we don’t love each other by then, then we will have all the time in the world to fall in love, my husband.”

* * *

 

Lord Voldemort declares open war three years later in astounding fashion.  He tasks Bellatrix with leading the assault on Diagon Alley and she delights at the idea.  She dons her hooded cloak and snake mask beside Rabastan and Amalia, while Rodolphus leans against the arching door.

“Please be careful,” he says as he helps her tighten the straps of her mask around her head.  “My life would get incredibly boring if you went off and died.”

“And what a tragedy that would be,” Bellatrix chuckles sarcastically.

Rodolphus smiles and presses a kiss to the mouth of the mask.  He has his own mission to carry out and his own troops to lead.

Bellatrix tears through the Alley, firing curses at anyone who isn’t lucky enough to get away.  She laughs cruelly as they cry, as they beg for her to spare them. A few are foolish enough to challenge her, but none are powerful enough to survive.

She returns to the Gaunt house victorious, soaking in the praises of the Dark Lord.  He lays a hand on her head, speaks flowing words in his high, clear voice, and Bellatrix is in love.

Rodolphus finds her later, picking her up and twirling her in the air.  He buries his face in her shoulder and tells her about how he’d firebombed St. Mungo’s, burning down an entire wing filled with mudbloods and their half-breed kin.  Bellatrix kisses him fiercely and leads him upstairs to bed.

There is no romantic love between them, but Bellatrix has found enjoyment in her husband’s body since their wedding night.  Besides, she is expected to one day produce a son to carry on the Lestrange name. She hopes that tonight is the night that happens, so that their child may grow up to know the great future that the Dark Lord has promised.

Lord Voldemort gives them both a place at his right hand that night at supper.  She and Rodolphus lean toward him, unable to describe their desire to be close to him.

“You have shown your loyalty to me.  And for that, I am… thankful,” the Dark Lord tells them.  “And I am a generous Lord, one that rewards you for the great deeds you do in my name.  I have a gift for you.”

“A gift, my Lord?” Bellatrix gasps, her heart leaping into her throat.  Lord Voldemort smiles at her before gesturing to someone that she can’t see.

“Come here, my faithful servant.”

A man steps out of the shadows and Bellatrix’s eyes widen.  He is bathed in the moonlight streaming through the large dining room windows, tall and thin with wrinkles lining his mouth.  There are lines of grey that she doesn’t remember him having littering his black hair, but his dark eyes still sparkle at the sight of her.

“Bella?” Cygnus Black whispers, unable to believe his eyes.

“Papa?”  Bellatrix rises suddenly to her feet, her chair scraping against the old wooden flooring.  The dining room is suddenly silenced, the gazes of the other occupants falling upon her. “Papa!”

Cygnus rushes forward, embracing her with all his might.  Bellatrix clings to him, tears falling unashamedly, and thanks the Dark Lord for this kindness.

When they finally part, Bellatrix grabs her father by the hand and brings him over to meet her husband.  Rodolphus shakes Cygnus’s hand, expressing his honour to finally meet the man that Bellatrix has talks so much about.  Then, one by one, Bellatrix introduces her father to the rest of her friends as the rest of their dinner party went back to their own conversations.

“This is Rabastan - he’s Dolph’s twin brother.  And this is his wife, Amalia. And this…” she turns to introduce their final member, “This is Lucius Malfoy.  He is to marry Narcissa next summer.”

Cygnus greets each one in turn, a small smile gracing his face, “And what of Andromeda?”

Bellatrix sours at the thought of the mage traitor.  She wants to blurt out the truth, but she knows that it will break her father’s heart.  Instead, she says, “A mudblood took her.”

Cygnus swears.  The Dark Lord laughs, quiet and yet, it carried over all other noises.  A hush fell over the dining hall once again.

“Bella.  I’m disappointed in you.  What have I told you about lying in my presence?”

Bellatrix’s blood runs cold, “I… I didn’t lie, my Lord.  I only--”

“You _lied_ , Bellatrix.  To your father.  To _me_.  Now, should I tell him the truth, or will you?”

Bellatrix swallows, her fists balling at her side.   _No one else knows what Andromeda is.  Not Rodolphus. Not Lucius. Not anyone._  But her Lord had commanded her to air her family’s shame, so she does as he bids.

She is shaking with rage by the end.  Cygnus’s face is a mask of stone, the disappointment evident in his eyes.  Behind her, her friends are staring at her with disgust in her eyes and snickers are coming from the other occupants of the room.  Bellatrix wants the floor to rise up and consume her, forever hiding her shame.

“Bella…” Rodolphus steps forward, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.  She shakes him off, not wanting his pity. And so she is surprised when the Dark Lord rises from his chair and approaches her, taking her imperfect, battered hands in his and drawing her back to the table with him.

“Muggles… They have taken so much from us, haven’t they, my dear Bellatrix,” Lord Voldemort says, tucking an errant lock of her hair behind her ear.  “Have I ever told you the history of this manor?”

“No, my Lord,” she whispers, shy in the glory of his attention.

“It belonged to my great-great-grandfather, Valerleon Gaunt.  And I am his heir.”

A gasp goes around the room and Bellatrix joins them.  As far as the wizarding world had known, the Gaunts had gone extinct nearly a century ago.  Fro the Dark Lord to claim to be the heir to House Gaunt seemed almost miraculous.

The Lord continues on to tell him how Valerleon had been unfairly tricked into give up his family’s home in Little Hangleton by a gold-hungry muggle family named the Riddles, leaving his forefathers to live in squander in a shack residing on the corner of the property.  The Dark Lord himself had been conceived in a secret union between the last son and daughter of the house, like the great Italian families of Rome.

“But the Riddles found out about their love… about me.  They wanted to steal me from my family, to put me to work as their servant,” the Dark Lord explained.  “Morfin, my… father, he tried to stop them. He and my grandfather fought against the muggles, but it was for not.  They took my mother, Merope, strung her over one of their horses, and carried her off while she screamed for my father to save her.”

Morfin and his father had been imprisoned in Azkaban for defending Merope’s honour, for the Ministry put the lives of wretch scum before the blood of Slytherin himself.  The Lord told them how the Ministry covered it up, claimed that Merope had run off with the muggle man, but he knew the truth.

“The muggle forced her to lay with her, tortured her, probably infected her with the same disease that your sister now carries,” the Dark Lord says and Bellatrix weeps for this noble woman she will never get the chance to meet.  “He sold her treasures to fill his pockets with gold, took away her wand, and made her tell him that she loved him. Then he left her at a muggle orphanage to give birth to me, forcing me to bare his family name as his final piece of humiliation.  My mother died in that mudswamp, crying for her true husband to find her again. And when Morfin left Azkaban, he learned what had happened to my mother. He slaughtered the Riddles in cold blood, reclaiming this manor for the House of Gaunt and their loyal followers.”

“My Lord…” Bellatrix whispers through her heartache.  She wants to reach out and hold him but knows that she will never be worthy of such a thing.

“The muggles took your sister, Bellatrix.  They sent their mudblood son into our world to infect her with their disease,” Lord Voldemort tells her.  “The Ministry did not help you save her, if they even truly tried. They hate you. They want you and your true-blooded family dead.  They would rather have your sons murdered by mud filth while your daughters are stolen from their bed. Only those who are loyal to me will be able to survive this attack on our world.”

The Dark Lord stands, addressing the room, “I am the only path to salvation.  I, who have conquered death itself, am the only one who will fight for your right to freedom.  Anyone who stands against me must be destroyed. Will you pledge your allegiance to me, now and forever?”

A resounding cheer erupts from the table.  Bellatrix joins them, staring at the glory that was Lord Voldemort.

“Bellatrix,” he addresses her directly.  She stands, breathless and imploring. “Even the oldest of our family trees become sick when left alone.  Cut away the disease at the first chance, for it threatens the health of the rest.”

“Yes, my Lord.  Of course, my Lord,” she bows low, grateful for his forgiveness.   _Andromeda made her choice to lie with the mudblood.  I will burn her from this world, but as we will with the rest of the sickness that infects the rest of the wizarding world._

Later that night, Rodolphus approaches her in their bedroom.  Bellatrix’s back is to him, her hands busy with running a brush through her thick black hair.

“I had a sister, too,” he tells her.  She turns to him, confused. “Her name was Araminta.  She was a lot older than Rabastan and me, so I don’t have a lot of memories of her.”

“What happened to her?” She asks.  Rodolphus sits down beside her.

“She could… do things.  To-- To wood. Trees would just grow whenever she walked by,” he explains.  “She was a mage. And my father, when he discovered what she was…” Rodolphus sighs, “He told me that it was the hardest thing he ever had to do.  But he had to. For the good of the family.”

Bellatrix stares at her husband, shocked at his admission.

“When you see your sister next… It will be hard, but…” Rodolphus smiles at her, gentle as always, “I know that you will be strong enough to do what needs to be done.” He presses a kiss to her cheek, “I know that you’re strong enough.”

“Thank you,” she says and wishes, not for the first time, that she was in love with him.

* * *

  War, as Bellatrix finds out, is a lot more boring than you would think.  The years come and go, she loses some comrades and gains more. Her mother writes to Bellatrix to tell her that Sirius has been disowned, but she barely gives the news a second glance. The Gaunt Manor is stuffed almost to the bursting point with the Dark Lord’s supporters and allies, with meetings taking place more often than actual crusades.

There are battles, though - long drawn out fights where she’s pinned behind a brick wall and has to fight her way through a half dozen Aurors to reach freedom.  They tangle with Dumbledore’s Order almost as often, thought their fighters are nothing in comparison to Bellatrix. She gleefully cuts them down and blasts the Dark Mark into the sky so that all may know of her victory.

Lysander Lestrange has closed St. Mungo’s doors to anyone of muggle descent, publicly stating that they fear drawing the attention of the Death Eaters again.  But in reality, Bellatrix’s father-in-law had made the decision after confirming with his son Rabastan, who had taken on the position as the Dark Lord’s spymaster.

 _If we can cut off the usual medical supply lines, the Order will be forced to rely solely on their illegal ones,_ Amalia had explained her husband’s plan to Bellatrix one night while they sipped warm peppermint tea.  She had always saught out her sister-in-law’s company when Rodolphus was too busy in the Gaunt Manor’s makeshift hospital wing, burning the midnight oil to keep their fellow Death Eaters alive.   _If we can find out how they’re being supplied, then we can starve them out of their hiding places and win this war even faster._

Rabastan’s struggles finally pay off when he discovers who the Order has been in communication with.

“Charlus Potter,” he reveals, slamming his stack of parchment onto the table with gusto.  “I’ve suspected him of mudblood sympathies, since his brother Henry makes a habit of defending muggles - filthy half-bloods, the whole lot of them,” Rabastan hisses.  “It turns out that the Potters have been passing supplies from their backwater country in the East. They may have changed their names to be able to blend in with our noble British heritage, but that does not hide the stink of their dirty brown blood.”

Bellatrix remembers seeing Charlus’s name on the family tree back at Grimmauld Place.  He’d married a relative of her’s, a woman named Dorea Black. She grits her teeth, _More withering branches to prune._

“We have a location,” Rabastan grins.  “

“Excellent work, my faithful servant,” the Dark Lord says and Rabastan preens at his praise.  He turns to Bellatrix, “My darling, you, your husband, and Amalia are tasked with snuffing them out - Charlus, his wife, and any of their half-blood children.  I must send a message to the Order. Kill them all and let Dumbledore’s little resistance come to an end.”

“Of course, my Lord,” Bellatrix bows, covering her face with her mask.

She, Rodolphus, and Amalia appear just outside of Leicester, using the cover of darkness to sneak through the city unnoticed.  The Potter family owns a house just outside of downtown. Bellatrix scoffs, _They have not even drawn the curtains_.

She can see them quite clearly in their kitchen, adorned with the trappings of the Potter’s true homeland.  Dorea Potter laughs into her wine glass, looking startling like her sister Cassiopeia as she does it. She speaks to a brown-skinned boy who might be her son and a pretty pureblooded witch who was foolish enough to marry him.

A figure passes behind them, one that Bellatrix cannot seem to understand.  They appear to be both male and female, with thin grey hair that hinted at age and light brown eyes that betrayed their young.

The gate creaks as Bellatrix pushes it open, but the family did not seem to hear.  Amalia pulls her wand from beneath her cloak and points it at the door, busting it wide open--

The old husband, Charlus, comes sprinting into the hall, his glasses falling off his face in shock.  Bellatrix hits him with a Killing Curse and Charlus falls like a marionette, tumbling into the banisters and--

Dorea is screaming, “Go!  Go! Out the floo! Now!”

Bellatrix hears a rush of fire and knows that someone has disappeared from the household, but that doesn’t stop her from marching forward.  Dorea flips the dining room table, shielding her son and his wife from the barrage that Bellatrix and Rodolphus send their way. Amalia joins the fight, cackling as she threw curse after curse, taking joy in burning away at the Potter’s wooden barricade.

The fight is over before it begins.  They have the Potters pinned down with nowhere to run, and Rabastan’s research told them that the son had been schooled in the homeland of his father.   _India barely has such a small community these days, after the massacre that took place during the Raj,_ Bellatrix thinks.   _They know so little of pure wizarding might._

It’s only a matter of time before one of their curses connect.  Rodolphus’s bright green Killing Curse hits the son in the shoulder.  The boy slumps sideways onto the floor, his face echoing with his final second of agony, and Dorea _screams_ \--

The wife bursts out from behind the barricade and Bellatrix laughs, because it’s too easy, it’s all too easy--

The wife rolls out of the way of Bellatrix’s curse, her pale blue eyes shining like deadly ice, and disappears.  Before she can understand what happened, Amalia coughs up blood.

The wife - _Johanna Slughorn_ , Bellatrix remembers her name from Rabastan’s briefing.   _Our old professor’s niece_ \- appears in front of Amalia, her hand somehow phasing right _through_ her chest.  Johanna hisses, her skin shimmering like grey scales, and yanks Amalia’s heart clean out of her chest.

_No._

“ _Mage!_ ” Bellatrix has never heard Rodolphus’s voice filled with so much rage.  He thrusts his wand forward, screaming, “ _Avada Kedavra!_ ”

His curse is so potent that it vaporizes Johanna.  As Rodolphus runs to catch Amalia, Bellatrix refocuses her attention on Dorea.

 _I have to buy him some time.  Dolph can help her. Dolph can fix her_ , Bellatrix thinks, her eyes welling with tears.  In the back of her mind, she knows the truth.

Dorea puts up a hell of a fight, but in the end, even the old woman is no match for Bellatrix’s strength.  She kills Dorea without much of a fuss, barely even hearing the witch’s body thump on the ground before she’s kneeling next to Rodolphus.

Bellatrix tears off her mask, “How do help?”

“I…” Rodolphus has already begun his treatment, his wand redirecting the blood from a gushing artery back into Amalia’s body.  Her heart lay beside her, twitching slight, and Bellatrix can’t bear to look. “You have to keep her blood cycle going. I’m going to have to cut her open and-- and reattach--”

“I don’t know how--”

“It’s okay,” her husband tells her.  “I’ve already started the spell. You just have to maintain it.  I need to--”

She injects her power into this spell, barely keeping up with the complexity of keeping someone alive.  Rodolphus uses his wand to open up Amalia’s chest, shifting the bones of her rib cage aside to give him room as he floats her heart back into its cavity.

One by one, Rodolphus reattached the valves of Amalia’s heart to her body, his hands covered in her blood.  Bellatrix’s hand hurt with the force of the spell she’s maintaining, the palms of her hands burnt pink as her wand begins to smoulder.  But she doesn’t let up, _can’t let up_ , because if she does, Amalia will die.

Finally, Rodolphus pulls back, slowly moving Amalia’s rib bones back into place and stitching her skin together.  He muttering incantations under his breath, whispers tiny pleas to the empty room. Rodolphus leans forward, pressing his ear to her chest to listen for a heartbeat.

“No!” He screams, throwing his wand aside and slamming his fists down onto Amalia’s chest.  He does it again, then tilts Amalia’s head back and presses his lips against hers, breathing air into her lungs once, then twice.  He jumps back on top of her, pressing down repeatedly on the witches chest, “No! No! You don’t-- You can’t--”

Rodolphus blows air into the witch’s lungs again.  Bellatrix starts to cry.

She doesn’t know how long it takes before Rodolphus gives up, sliding off of the body of their friend and into Bellatrix’s arms.  They cry together, begging for their friend to wake up, to open her eyes. But she never does.

“Grandpa?”

A small, scared voice comes from the banister.  Bellatrix turns to see two children standing in the staircase.  The little boy is holding a muggle plastic toy.

“Grandpa?”  The girl cries again, reaching through the wooden bars to touch Charlus’s head.  “Grandpa? Wake… wake up, grandpa…”

Bellatrix looks at her husband.  He looks back at her. And together, they stand.

“What did you do to him?  What did you do to my grandpa?” The girl shrieks as they slowly walk around Charlus’s body and toward the bottom of the stairs.  She abandons her brother and scrambles away. The idiot boy blinks up at the two of them, staring blankly even as they point their wands between his eyes.

There is a flash of green.  The girl screams again, but not for long.

* * *

 

Amalia dies for nothing.  The Order’s supply chains have not ceased to exist, even a year after the Potters die.  Bellatrix takes her rage out on whoever she gets in her way, often stopping her warpath to inflicts as much pain as possible on her victims.

Rabastan hisses in frustration, “Merlin’s fucking balls!”  He throws a curse at one of his informants, killing the idiotic half-blood as Bellatrix walks into his study, “If I hear one more word about _Droms_ \--”

“If I ask, are you going to kill me, too?” Bellatrix says dully, crossing her arms over her chest.  Rabastan settles back into his seat, holding his face in his hands.

“Droms is the name of whoever took over Charlus’s position as the Order’s smuggler,” he tells her.  “And for the life of me, I can’t find out _a single other fact_ about them.  Not hair colour.  Not age. Not where they’re from or how much they’re fucking gender--” Rabastan takes a shuddering breath.  “Hell, I’ve got accounts of Droms making deals in France at the same time that I have other people telling me that they’re in London.  I can’t track them. I can’t even get a fucking _photograph--_ ”

He throws his informants findings down on his desk, revealing a photo of a goblin, it’s braided beard so long that it looped around its neck like a scarf.

“I thought Droms has a human,” Bellatrix comments.

“So did I, but nope!  This idiot,” Rabastan points at the dead body, “swore on his life that Droms was a goblin.  Even though I’ve got _twelve other people_ telling me that Droms is a human man, a human woman, a veela, and a _fucking_ _lethifold_ all that the same fucking time!”

Rabastan disintegrating the corpse in a blast of angry pale green.   _His temper has genuinely never settled since Amalia’s death_ , she thinks.   _He’s become more volatile, more unpredictable._  Bellatrix misses her friend dearly, but she doesn’t think that the hole Amalia left in her life could ever compare to the one it left in Rabastan’s.

“I need someone who’s actually _met_ Droms,” he seethes.  He looks up at Bellatrix, “So, please try not to kill every single member of the Order the next time you fight them.  We need a spy.” When she asks him if he has any particular preference, Rabastan replies, “Get me someone decent. Decent people are so easy to manipulate.”

Three days later, Bellatrix hauls two members of Dumbledore’s little band of fighters before Rabastan.  They’re sweaty, snivelling beings and their mudblood stench wrinkle Bellatrix’s nose.

“Names?” Rabastan asks without looking up from his desk, looking like a picture of bureaucratic disinterest with his gorgeous peacock feather quill, a gift from Narcissa and Lucius for his last birthday.

One of the Order members whimpers in response, so Bellatrix jolts them with a low-grade Cruciatus curse.

“ _Names?_ ” Rabastan asks again.

“Caradoc Dearborn,” says the first man.

The second, a boy with watery eyes and mousy hair, takes a bit more prodding by Bellatrix before he says, “Peter.  Peter Pettigrew.”

“Excellent.  Now,” Rabastan finally looks up at them, offering a smile that promised everything and nothing all at once.  “I have a few questions for you both. Bellatrix, if you will?”

It takes three hours for Dearborn to break, spilling his guts to save his own life.  The man knows nothing about Droms, much to Rabastan’s disappointment, but he does give other things.  He tells them of Figg family and Benjy Fenwick, who have been acting as healers for the Order after St. Mungo’s barred its doors.  Then, Dearborn gave up the location of the Bones family, a traitorous house of lesser purebloods, along with eighteen other members of the Order.  Rabastan jots it all down with careful precision and makes the proper arrangements to ensure their demise.

Once Dearborn starts to repeat his information, Rabastan gives him to Macnair to play with.

Pettigrew takes a bit longer to crack.

The boy speaks, but he doesn’t say anything useful.  When Rabastan probes his mind, he finds images of Peter and his friends tormenting one of their newest recruits, by levitating him up in the air and pulling his pants down.  When Bellatrix tortures him, cutting off bits and pieces that he doesn’t need, Pettigrew screams out the plotline for a muggle story called _Star Wars_.  When Rodolphus sews him back up, the boy murmurs that his friends are coming to save him.

The Dark Lord is displeased with Rabastan’s progress, wondering allowed if he’s lost his touch.  Across the table from Bellatrix, Severus Snape snickers under his breath, bumping his shoulders against her cousin, Regulus Black.

Then, one morning almost two months later, Bellatrix enters Pettigrew’s cell to find the boy small and pliant, the picture of defeat.

“They’re not coming… are they?” He mutters, his watery eyes as dull as a corpse.

“No,” she tells him.

Pettigrew shifts his head to face her.

“What do you want to know?”

* * *

 

Narcissa is married on a quiet summer day in the gardens of Malfoy Manor, wearing a simple white dress accented with green and silver.  Cygnus walks her down the aisle and shakes Lucius’s hand when they reach the altar.

Bellatrix dances with Lucius and they throw their banter back-and-forth like they usually do.  Rabastan steels her away halfway through, throwing them into a scandalous swing that has her laughing at the top of her lungs.

Rodolphus, who’s never been much of a dancer, rolls her eyes when she finally finds him eating small steak and kidney pies from the tray carried an overeager house elf that looks to be barely out of its diapers.

“If you get fat, I’m leaving you for your brother,” Bellatrix says, rolling her eyes.

“Amalia would have been delighted to include you in their marriage bed, I’m sure,” Rodolphus says sarcastically.  He turns to the elf, “Run along Dobby, before my wife scolds me again for being hungry.”

“Yes, Master Lestrange!  Of course!” The elf bows comically low, nearly dropping the platter in his haste, and scamper back to the kitchens for more food.

“So…” Rodolphus raises an eyebrow and jerks his head pointedly toward the crowded tables, “Shall we say hello to the guests of honour?”

Bellatrix grins, showing her pearly teeth, and takes her husband’s offered arm.  They move as one through the crowds and approach a curtained litter surrounded by fifty guards dressed in centurion armour.

One of them detaches from the group, stepping forward with a flourish of his red cloak.  Bellatrix and Rodolphus introduce themselves, dipping into a low bow as the centurion translates their words into the language of the _Forum Romanum_.  The pair beyond the curtain responds and the centurion nods.

“I am Julianus Pentronax,” the centurion finally addresses them, his words carrying a heavy Italian accent.  “Speaker to the Unclean for the Great Wizarding House of Zabini. You have the honour of addressing the Lord Caius Zabini and his sister-wife, Lartia.”

Bellatrix allows the remark of ‘Unclean’ to roll off her back like water - for in comparison to the ancient wizarding houses of Italy, who had existed since the dawn of the Roman Empire, the House of Black only had a mere millennia to their name.  She hopes that one day, in the future that the Dark Lord has promised them, their descendants will be able to speak to the Italian families as equals.

“We are delighted to have you at my sister’s wedding, Lord and Lady Zabini,” Bellatrix says.  Beyond the curtain, she hears Caius speaking and she waits for Julianus to translate.

“My Lord Caius wonders if all the wizards in Britain as so humbled that they allow their wives to talk for them,” the centurion says, addressing Rodolphus.  A chill runs down Bellatrix’s spine.

“My wife is my partner.  We are equals in all that we do,” Rodolphus answers, standing up straight and eying the curtained litter with intense animosity.  He reaches for Bellatrix’s hand, holding it in his gentle grasp.

Caius speaks again and Julianus translates, “My lord Caius says that you allow her too much freedom.  His own mother, Lady Cassiopeia came to Italy with such ideas and his Lord father was quick to stomp them out.  He says that his wife, the Lady Lartia, knows her place and that you should teach--”

There is a squawk of indignation before the curtains are wrenched open, revealing the two figures that Bellatrix had seen as well as a third that had remained silent up until now.

Caius and Lartia were easy enough to pick out.  They appeared to be twins, with curly black hair and surprisingly dark complexions for members of the Italian wizarding elite.  There was a slightness to their silhouettes that reminded her of the Dark Lord, their thin bodies cloaked in golden silks. But behind them was a robust old woman with familiar high cheekbones and the pale skin of a British witch, her long silver hair flowing from her head in waves.

 _Cassiopeia Black,_ Bellatrix thinks, feeling a sense of awe coarse through her body.  This woman was one of the foreigners in the last century to marry into Italian families.  Bellatrix’s grandfather, Pollux Black, had been Cassiopeia’s older brother, meaning that she was standing before her own blood relatives.   _My family must really want this match to work, if they invited the Zabini’s to appear that Narcissa’s wedding._

“Your father stamped _nothing_ out of me, Caius!” The old woman says as she swats at her son’s head.  “You will speak to your cousin with more respect, or I swear--”

Lartia cries out something in Latin but is seemingly ignored by both of the parties.  Caius roars at his mother, attempting to close the curtains with a wave of his wand, but his mother produces a counter-jinx before anyone can stop her.

“Tell your father about this all you like!  The old bastard can barely remember his own name these days, if he can manage to talk through his spattergroit infested face,” Cassiopeia snaps.  She turns to Bellatrix and Rodolphus, her eyes going soft, “I’m sorry for my children, my dear. I don’t know where I went wrong with them - their brother is just as bad.  You wouldn’t happen to have seen my granddaughter, have you? She wandered off to look at the gardens and hasn’t come back yet.”

Bellatrix feels as stunned as her husband looks.  Cassiopeia sees that and _steps down from the litter_ , crossing in front of the sputtering Julianus, and hands them a photograph.

“Her name is Viola.  If you see her, tell her that I will meet her in the library,” Cassiopeia sighs and walks away, muttering to herself.  “At least one of my descendants has some _brains_ …”

Caius starts shouting again, this time at Bellatrix and Rodolphus, and the curtains are shut with a snap.

“The… Lord Caius has grown… wary of your presence, Lord and Lady Lestrange,” Julianus stammers, clearly overwhelmed by the whole thing.  “If you will kindly--”

“Leave?  Yeah. We got the message,” Rodolphus says.  He raises an eyebrow at Bellatrix, “Well? Shall we?”

Once they get as far away from the Zabini litter, Bellatrix takes a good look at the photograph Cassiopeia had given her.  A young black girl wearing a wedding dress stands before a man, looking sullen as silver sparks fly overhead. Her new husband leans down to kiss her, but the portrait of Viola Zabini shoves her bouquet in his face.

“She said that… she went to go look at the gardens,” Bellatrix parrots, wondering if they’re supposed to go looking for this missing Zabini girl.  Rodolphus shrugs.

“The Malfoys have an extensive hedge maze at the front of their property,” her husband supplies.  “The least we can do is check it out.”

Viola is nowhere to be found within the maze, but they do see a pair of footsteps accompanied by the single dot to mark the girl’s cane.  They track her right through to the other side, losing their trail to the vast green pastures beyond the Malfoy’s property.

In the distance is a small red brick cottage, with puffs of black smoke rising from the chimney.  Bellatrix’s lips thin and she goes for her wand.

_Mudscum._

They find the Zabini girl atop the muggle boy, riding him while he grasped at her hips.  Bellatrix murders him just as he climaxes, hissing her rage as Rodolphus pulls Viola from his corpse.  The girl is screaming, crying, scrambling for something to cover herself. He takes pity on her, wrapping Viola in a sheet from the bed.

“Did he force you, my Lady?” Bellatrix asks, gathering the girl’s clothes from where they lay on the floor.  She presses the white cane into Viola’s hands, “He did, didn’t he? _Filth!_ ”

Viola doesn’t answer.  She just continues to cry as Rodolphus picks her up and carries her downstairs, past the bodies of the muggle boy’s parents.

Bellatrix burns the cottage down and they take Viola back to the wedding, whispering their comforts all the way.  When Bellatrix presents her to the Zabini’s litter, the Lady Lartia opens the curtains this time and hobbles toward her daughter, embracing her.  Julianus tells them that the Zabini’s owe them their thanks and will provide support for their Dark Lord in his future endeavors.

But as the wedding party comes to a close and the guests begin to apparate back to their homes, Bellatrix catches a glimpse of the Zabini litter.  Viola sits just outside the curtain, her legs dangling off the ledge and her arms wrapped around her belly. The girl looks up and catches Bellatrix’s gaze, her eyes full of rebellion.

 _She looks like Andromeda did_ , she thinks, remembering the day she last saw her sister.  And Bellatrix wonders if the muggle had forced Viola at all.

* * *

 

They nearly have Droms cornered when Bellatrix’s left forearm burns hot.

 _A summoning?  Now?_ She wonders but does as the Dark Lord bids.  She disapparates and appears at his side in the Gaunt Manor.  The expression on his face scares her, as for the first time in Bellatrix’s entire life, Lord Voldemort looks scared.

“Severus…” The Dark Lord says as he settles into his rightful place at the head of their table, Bellatrix and Rodolphus sitting down at his right hand.  “Tell everyone what you just told me.”

Severus weaves his tale, telling them of how he’d stumbled upon Albus Dumbledore at the Hog’s Head, where he was interviewing a woman for the position of Divination at Hogwarts.  Apparently, the woman had thrown herself into a prophetic chant, speaking about how a child would be born at the end of July who had the power to kill the Dark Lord.

“Ridiculous!” Rodolphus hisses, “The Dark Lord has surpassed death - he’s said it himself!  For a child to be born with such a power… It’s impossible--”

“Rodolphus…” The Dark Lord whispers, his voice wavering ever so slightly.  “I want you to send an owl to your father. Tell him that Lord Voldemort requires all the records regarding witches who are due to have children at the end of July…”

“My… My Lord?” Rodolphus stammers, looking confused.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” The Dark Lord asks.

“No.  No, of course not, my Lord.  I will… I will do that right away, my Lord,” Rodolphus rises from his chair and hurries out of the room.

“Rabastan, compile a short list of names of couples who have fought me three times previously.  We will need to cross reference these names against the list provided by your brother.”

“Yes.  I will, my Lord,” Rabastan says, bowing low.  He jerks his head at Barty Crouch, the son of an Auror and Rabastan’s brightest pupil in the ways of espionage.

“Lucius,” the Dark Lord calls and Bellatrix’s brother-in-law jolts to his feet.  “We will need supplies. The Zabini’s should--”

“I’ll write them, yes, my Lord."

It takes nearly half a year for them to narrow the list of names provided by Rabastan and Rodolphus down to a single couple.  In that time, Bellatrix grows more and more frustrated with the amount of effort that is put into this prophecy business.  According to Amalia's old calculations, the Ministry would have fallen to their might by now, if only they had stayed on track.

“Alice and Frank Longbottom,” Barty Crouch reads.  “Pureblooded on both sides - the wife belongs to the Travers family.”  One of the men farther down the table hisses at that admission and Bellatrix guess that they are kin to this Alice girl.”

“Are you positive?” The Dark Lord asks.  Bellatrix worries for him, as does her husband.  He’s seemed more distant lately, more unsure.

“Positive.  It will be the Longbottoms.  The only other child being born at the end of July will be a half-blooded bastard,” Crouch says, nodding as he does so.  Lord Voldemort frowns.

“Half-blood…?” The Lord whispers, his voice high and clear.  “And illegitamate…?”

Crouch, unsure of how to respond, stammers, “Yes, my Lord.  The Potter boy… what was his name…?”

“James,” Severus says, spitting out the name like venom.

“Right.  James Potter.  He’s gotten a mudblood girl pregnant.  Lily Evans, I think her name is--”

“It will be the Potter’s child,” the Dark Lord declares.

“My Lord, I think that--”  Crouch howls when Lord Voldemort curses him, falling from his chair and writhing on the floor.

 _He shouldn’t have interrupted him_ , Bellatrix thinks as she stares blankly at Crouch’s twitching form.   _He’ll learn not to do that, or I’ll kill him myself._

“Find me Potter.  Find me Evans. Find--” The Dark Lord rages, his fiery power cascading from him in waves.  “Find them. And bring them to me!”

The Order hides them from them, using the protection of a Fidelius charm to ensure that Potter, Evans, and their half-blood welp say that way.  The name Droms keeps popping up as July comes and goes without a sign of where they might be. Until…

Until Peter Pettigrew comes running.

* * *

 

Lord Voldemort leads her and Lucius up the stairs into one of the family bedrooms.   _Not the master,_ Bellatrix thinks.   _Perhaps, belonging to the heir of the house_.  She likes to think of the Dark Lord’s ancestor, Valerleon Gaunt, growing up within these walls, about how happy and joyful he must have been before the Riddle’s infected his home with their filthy muddy hands.

Lord Voldemort swears them to secrecy, pressing a sacred treasure into each of their hands.

“Keep them safe for me,” he tells them.  “Keep them safe and I will reward you. Keep them safe and I will return to you from beyond the veil of death.”

Bellatrix never tells Rodolphus what she received, hiding it away in his family’s vault without his knowledge.  It’s the only secret she ever hides from him.

* * *

 

The Dark Lord falls at the hands of infant Harry Potter, a half-blooded bastard.  And as Britain celebrates, the ground beneath Bellatrix’s feet falls away.

Rabastan is running throughout the Gaunt House, barking orders left and right.  Some of them listen, while others just laugh. _It was the Dark Lord that they feared, not him_ , she realizes, her mind a mess of chaotic thoughts.

As the day drags on, more and more of his followers desert him.  Igor Karkaroff runs back to mainland Europe with a half-hearted promise of gather foreign support.  The Carrow twins turn themselves in, claiming to have been under the Imperius Curse. Rabastan gathers news of Mulciber being arrested, of Pettigrew’s death at the hands of Sirius Black, and that Evan Rosier threw himself before the wands of the Aurors rather than be taken to Azkaban.

“What do we do?” Someone asks her.  Bellatrix leans into her husband’s arms, unable to answer.

 _We never had a family_ , Bellatrix thinks suddenly, almost irrationally.   _We never had children, not one._  They’d been married for long enough that Rodolphus had run some tests to find out if she was fertile.  As it turned out, she was. He wasn’t.

 _We wanted to raise them together in the new world that the Dark Lord promised us,_ she thinks as tears roll down her cheeks.   _We wanted that future together.  The Dark Lord, he promised--_

Bellatrix gathers who she can for their search party.  Rodolphus is the first to volunteer, prepared to kill and fight and die by her side.  Rabastan falls in line when he realizes that no one else will listen to him. Barty Crouch stumbles along with him, following dutifully in his teacher’s footsteps.  Lucius wants to come too, but Bellatrix turns him away.

“Go home to your wife,” she says.  “Someone needs to be alive to gaze the next generation.  Remember what he told you.”

Lucius hugs her tightly, whispering in her ear, “I’ll tell Narcissa you died honourable.”

 _No,_ she thinks.   _There will be no honour in this._

Bellatrix finds her father packing his things.  When he turns to see her, she already knows his decision.

“I always promised your mother that I would take her to France.  If we run now, we might be able to escape the Ministry,” Cygnus tells her.  He holds her close, crying into her shoulder, “Oh, Bella. I never wanted this war to touch you.”

She never sees her parents again.

They find the Longbottom popping champagne bottles in their tower up in Manchester.  Bellatrix watches as Alice pours them a pair of foaming glasses while Frank Longbottom bounces their four-month-old son on his lap.  She grits her teeth and thinks of the family that she will never be able to have.

 _I’ll spare the baby,_ she looks at Rodolphus and knows that he’s thinking the same thing.   _I’ll save it and, if we survive this, we’ll_ take _it.  And when we find what we need to know, the Dark Lord will be so pleased..._

When the Aurors finally surround the tower, the baby is crying in Bellatrix’s arms.  She’s cooing, trying to calm it, but she can’t-- something is wrong and she _can’t_ \-- Rodolphus presses tiny toys into its pudgy little fingers, but the baby throws them away, howling at the top of its lungs while Rabastan pokes the sluggish remains of its parents with his wand.   _He wants information, something to help him understand the Dark Lord’s prophecy.  But there is nothing left for him to find now..._

“Why won’t it stop?” Bellatrix screams, pushing the baby at her husband.  She approaches the mother - _Alice,_ her mind reminds her.   _Alice In Wonderland_ \- “Why won’t it all just stop?   _Crucio!  Crucio!_ ”

The Aurors blast in the door and Crouch takes down one before he’s thrown across the room, hitting the stone wall opposite and sliding unconscious to the ground.  Rabastan is wrestled to the floor, shouting obscenities. Rodolphus points his wand at the baby’s throat, threatening to kill it if they don’t let them go. But the Aurors don’t listen-- _The Dark Lord was right, they want us dead, they want us all dead_ \-- hitting him with a half dozen stunner and collecting the baby before it hits the ground.

Bellatrix just stands there, watching the world fall apart beneath her.

“Madam Lestrange,” the lead Auror, Crouch’s father, is gentle when he takes her wand from her grasp.  “Madam Lestrange, you are under arrest…”

Bellatrix drowns out the rest, her head spinning.   _The Dark Lord… He said that he would live forever… He said that he would build us a new world… He said… He said…_

 _Keep this safe, Bella_ , Lord Voldemort had said, pressing a golden cup into her hands.   _Keep this safe and I will return to you from beyond the realms of death._

Bellatrix screams.

* * *

 

Crouch the Senior sits in his chair on the dais.  Behind him sat the full Wizengamot in their elaborate plum-coloured robes, silent and judging.  On the right, a crowd of onlookers, of reporters and mudscum looking for their last laugh. And finally, off to Crouch’s left at a frail-looking witch, clutching a handkerchief and letting out the occasional sob.

“You have been brought here before the Council of Magical Law so that we may pass judgment on you, for a crime so heinous--” Crouch starts, but is interrupted.

“Father,” young Barty cries in the chair beside Bellatrix.  “Father… please…”

Crouch continues on like hadn’t heard anything, “--that we have rarely heard the like of it within this court.  We have heard the evidence against you. The four of you stand accused of capturing an Auror - Frank Longbottom - and subjecting him to the Cruciatus Curse, believing him to have knowledge of the present whereabouts of your exiled master, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named--”

“Father, I didn’t,” Barty shrieks.  Bellatrix wants to commend him on his acting skills.  She genuinely thinks that he’s afraid. “I didn’t, I swear it.  Father, don’t send me back to the dementor--”

She’d almost forgotten them.  Bellatrix glanced upward into the soulless pit of a creature looming above her.   _You want me to scream?  To shrivel away in fear?_ She spits at it, _I am the Dark Lord’s most faithful--_

A memory swamps her, of Cygnus holding the front page of _The Daily Prophet_.

 _They say that he’s dead_ , her father had told them all.   _They say that Harry Potter killed him_ \--

Bellatrix watches as the Wizengamot sentences them to die within the walls of Azkaban, as the crowd clapping with savage triumph.

Barty screams hysterically, “No!  Mother, no! I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it, I didn’t know!  Don’t send me there, don’t let him!”

 _Save your strength, boy,_ Bellatrix thinks.   _You are going to need it._

The dementors glide toward them.  Rabastan and Rodolphus rise quietly to their seats, resigned to their fates.  But Bellatrix remembers the Dark Lord’s promise to come back, but only if she could protect the Cup.

 _I mustn’t fail him_ , she thinks as she stands.

“The Dark Lord with rise again, Crouch!” Bellatrix calls out, hoping to reach those within the audience that were still loyal.  She makes quiet eye contact with Narcissa, but her sister looks away. _She must lie, to preserve her aura of innocence_ , she thinks desperately, all while crying, “Throw us into Azkaban; we will wait!  He will rise again and he will come for us! He will reward us beyond any of his other supporters!  We alone were faithful! We alone tried to find him!”

The crowd rose to their feet, taunting and jeering, but Bellatrix could take it.  She would always fight. She focuses her eyes on Narcissa, watches her sister sneak one final glance before Bellatrix is hauled away to the screams of Barty Crouch Jr.

* * *

 

Azkaban will take everything from Bellatrix and more.

It will take her desire for a family.  It will take her love for her friends. It will take her memories of her father, of her mother and sisters and aunt.

Azkaban will take her favourite colour.  It will take her love for dance. It will take her wishes, her hopes, and her dreams.  It will take and take and take, leaving no future. Leaving nothing but the Dark Lord.

But Bellatrix has one final moment before Azkaban destroys her.  She sits in the little boat beside Rodolphus, her hands and feet bound in chains.  The high tower looms above them, cold and haunting, the sea crashing against the rocks below like a promise.

Bellatrix turns her head to Rodolphus, takes her hand in his, and kisses him.

“After the war…?” she whispers into his lips, trying to sound as brave as she feels.  Rodolphus nods.

“After the war,” he responds.  They press their foreheads together and for a second, Bellatrix thinks that she might love him.

In time, Azkaban will take that, too.


	4. The Families of the Forum Romanum

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> These family trees follow the four Great Houses of the Forum Romanum, as well as a few lesser houses that are mentioned in Resist's 'Caesar' chapter.
> 
> Bolded names indicate the status of a family's Head and/or Heir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Yu-gi-oh! Duel Monsters is owned by Kazuki Takahashi, Studio Gallop, Nihon Ad Studios, and TV Tokyo. Harry Potter is owned by J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing, Arthur A. Levine Books, and Warner Bros. Please support the official releases.
> 
> Warning: Mentions of incest, child marriage, impregnation, child pregnancies, and character death.

**The Great Houses**

**House Zabini**

**{POTITUS ZABINI}** ; (1891-1948)

  * His wife, {PONTIA ZABINI nee Sonia}; (1893-1984)
  * Their children:
    * Their son,  **{HERIUS ZABINI}** ; (1914-1999)
      * His wife, {CASSIOPEIA ZABINI nee Black}; (1915-2013)
      * Their children:
        * Their daughter, {LARTIA ZABINI}; (1938-2010)
          * Her brother-husband, Minister of Magic  **{CAIUS ZABINI}** ; (1940-2010)
          * Their children:
            * Their son,  **{KAESO ZABINI}** ; (1981-1998)
              * His sister-wife,  **VIOLA ZABINI** ; (1985-present)
            * Their son,  **{HARIUS ZABINI** }; (1983-1999)
              * His sister-wife,  **VIOLA ZABINI** ; (1985-present)
            * Their daughter,  **VIOLA ZABINI** ; (1985-present)
              * Her ex-brother-husband,  **{KAESO ZABINI}** ; (1981-1998)
              * Her ex-brother-husband,  **{HARIUS ZABINI}** ; (1983-1999)
              * Her ex-husband, {GALLIO SEANUS}; (1988-2003)
              * Her ex-husband, {LUCIUS SEANUS}; (1984-2006)
              * Her ex-husband, {TIBERIUS PAPAS}; (1964-2008)
              * Her ex-uncle-husband, {AGRIPPA ZABINI}; (1946-2009)
              * Her ex-father-husband, Minister of Magic  **{CAIUS ZABINI}** ; (1940-2010)
              * Her lover, {EDWIN CARTER}; (1985-2000)
              * Their child:
                * Their bastard child,  **BLAISE ZABINI** ; (2001-present)
        * Their son, Minister of Magic  **{CAIUS ZABINI}** ; (1940-2010)
          * His sister-wife, {LARTIA ZABINI}; (1938-2010)
          * Their children: 
            * Their son,  **{KAESO ZABINI}** ; (1981-1998)
              * His sister-wife,  **VIOLA ZABINI** ; (1985-present)
            * Their son,  **{HARIUS ZABINI** }; (1983-1999)
              * His sister-wife,  **VIOLA ZABINI** ; (1985-present)
            * Their daughter,  **VIOLA ZABINI** ; (1985-present)
              * Her ex-brother-husband,  **{KAESO ZABINI}** ; (1981-1998)
              * Her ex-brother-husband,  **{HARIUS ZABINI}** ; (1983-1999)
              * Her ex-husband, {GALLIO SEANUS}; (1988-2003)
              * Her ex-husband, {LUCIUS SEANUS}; (1984-2006)
              * Her ex-husband, {TIBERIUS PAPAS}; (1964-2008)
              * Her ex-uncle-husband, {AGRIPPA ZABINI}; (1946-2009)
              * Her ex-father-husband, Minister of Magic  **{CAIUS ZABINI}** ; (1940-2010)
              * Her lover, {EDWIN CARTER}; (1985-2000)
              * Their child:
                * Their bastard child,  **BLAISE ZABINI** ; (2001-present)
        * Their son, {AGRIPPA ZABINI}; (1946-2009)
          * His ex-wife, {FAVONIA ZABINI nee Papas}; (1964-1982)
          * Their children: 
            * Their son, {PAULUS ZABINI}; (1970-2008) 
              * His sister-wife, {AURIA ZABINI}; (1972-2003)
              * Their child: 
                * Their daughter,  _Vestalis Maxima_ {ATRONIA ZABINI}; (1998-2013)
              * His lover, {LARTIA SILIA}; (1969-1993)
              * Their children:
                * Their bastard daughter, _Vestal_ {AURIA SILIA}; (1991-2008)
                * Their bastard daughter, _Vestal_ (FAVONIA SILIA}; (1993-2006)
            * Their daughter, {AURIA ZABINI}; (1972-2003)
              * Her brother-husband, {PAULUS ZABINI}; (1970-2008)
              * Their child: 
                * Their daughter, _Vestalis Maxima_ {ATRONIA ZABINI}; (1998-2013)
    * Their daughter, {SENNIA SIDONIA nee Zabini}; (1926-1953)
      * Her husband, {GNAEUS SIDONIA}; (1939-1968) 
        * For issue, see HOUSE SIDONIA
    * Their daughter, {LUSIA SEANUS nee Zabini}; (1931-1988)
      * Her husband, {COSSUS SEANUS}; (1969-2008) 
        * For issue, see HOUSE SEANUS



 

**House Sidonia**

**{SERVIUS SIDONIA}** ; (1915-1951)

  * His wife, {AQUILLA SIDONIA nee Martyria}; (1913-1950)
  * Their children:
    * Their son,  **{GNAEUS SIDONIA}** ; (1939-1968)
      * His wife, {SENNIA SIDONIA nee Zabini}; (1926-1953)
      * Their children: 
        * Their son,  **{SEPTIMUS SIDONIA}** ; (1945-1990)
          * His sister-wife, {CAESONIA SIDONIA}; (1950-1989)
          * Their children: 
            * Their son, Minister of Magic  **{TITUS SIDONIA}** ; (1979-2014)
              * His wife, {POMPONIA SIDONIA nee Papas}; (1979-1995)
              * Their child:
                * Their son, Emperor  **MARCELLOUS SIDONIA** ; (1995-present)
                  * His wife, Empress HOLLARIUS SIDONIA nee Hufflepuff; (970-present)
              * His victim, {GABINIA FLAVINA nee Sonia}; (1981-2014)
              * Their child:
                * Their bastard daughter,  _Vestalis Maxima_ LUCCENIA SONIA; (2000-present)
        * Their daughter, {NIGIDIA PAPAS nee Sidonia}; (1948-1996)
          * Her husband, DECIMUS PAPAS; (1940-present) 
            * For issue, see HOUSE PAPAS
        * Their daughter, {CAESONIA SIDONIA}; (1950-1989)
          * Her brother-husband,  **{SEPTIMUS SIDONIA}** ; (1945-1990) 
            * Their children: 
              * Their son, Minister of Magic  **{TITUS SIDONIA}** ; (1979-2014)
                * His wife, {POMPONIA SIDONIA nee Papas}; (1979-1995)
                * Their child:
                  * Their son, Emperor  **MARCELLOUS SIDONIA** ; (1995-present)
                    * His wife, Empress HOLLARIUS SIDONIA nee Hufflepuff; (970-present)
                * His victim, {GABINIA FLAVINA nee Sonia}; (1981-2014)
                * Their child:
                  * Their bastard daughter,  _Vestalis Maxima_ LUCCENIA SONIA; (2000-present)
    * Their daughter, {GAVIA PAPAS nee Sidonia}; (1945-1983)
      * Her husband, {CANUS PAPAS}, (1911-1972) 
        * For issue, see HOUSE PAPAS
    * Their daughter,  _Vestalis Maxima_ {VOLUSENNA SIDONIA}; (1950-2009)



 

**House Seanus**

Minister of Magic  **{AGRIPPA SEANUS}** ; (1890-1963)

    * His sister-wife, {VELIA SEANUS}; (1874-1930)
    * Their child:
      * Their daughter,  _Vestalis Maxima_ {POMPEIA SEANUS}; (1911-1968)
      * Their son,  **{GAIUS SEANUS}** ; (1912-1979)
        * His wife, {DIDIA SEANUS nee Papas}; (1913-1969)
        * Their children: 
          * Their son,  **{LUCIUS SEANUS}** ; (1925-2000)
            * His ex-wife, {SESTIA SEANUS nee Augustalis}; (1925-1956)
            * Their children: 
              * Their son,  **{VEL SEANUS}** ; (1946-2001)
                * His sister-wife, {LAMPRONIA SEANUS}; (1956-2002)
                * His lover, {LOREIA CORVINA}; (1950-1968)
                * Their children: 
                  * Their bastard son, Legion Commander KAESO CORVINA, (1968-present)
              * Their son,  **{TIBERIUS SEANUS}** ; (1954-2002)
                * His sister-wife, {LAMPRONIA SEANUS}; (1956-2002)
              * Their daughter, {LAMPRONIA SEANUS}; (1956-2002)
                * Her ex-brother-husband,  **{VEL SEANUS}** ; (1946-2001)
                * Her husband,  **{TIBERIUS SEANUS}** ; (1954-2002)
            * His sister-wife, CAESIA SEANUS; (1958-present)
            * Their children:
              * Their son,  **{TERIUS SEANUS}** ; (1983-2003)
                * His sister-wife, OTACILIA SEANUS; (1989-present)
              * Their daughter, {SOMATIA SEANUS}; (1985-2003)
                * Her brother-husband,  **QUINTUS SEANUS** ; (1987-present)
              * Their son,  **QUINTUS SEANUS** ; (1987-present)
                * His ex-sister-wife, {SOMATIA SEANUS}; (1985-2003)
                * His sister-wife, OTACILIA SEANUS; (1989-present)
              * Their daughter, OTACILIA SEANUS
                * Her ex-brother-husband,  **{TERIUS SEANUS}** ; (1983-2003)
                * Her brother-husband,  **QUINTUS SEANUS** ; (1987-present)
          * Their son, {COSSUS SEANUS}; (1969-2008)
            * His wife, {LUSIA SEANUS nee Zabini}; (1931-1988)
            * Their children: 
              * Their son, {LUCIUS SEANUS}; (1984-2006) 
                * His wife, VIOLA ZABINI; (1985-present)
              * Their son, {GALLIO SEANUS}; (1988-2003)
                * His wife, VIOLA ZABINI; (1985-present)
          * Their daughter, CAESIA SEANUS; (1958-present)
          *             * Her brother-husband,  **{LUCIUS SEANUS}** ; (1925-2000)
            * Their children:
              * Their son,  **{TERIUS SEANUS}** ; (1983-2003)
                * His sister-wife, OTACILIA SEANUS; (1989-present)
              * Their daughter, {SOMATIA SEANUS}; (1985-2003)
                * Her brother-husband,  **QUINTUS SEANUS** ; (1987-present)
              * Their son,  **QUINTUS SEANUS** ; (1987-present)
                * His ex-sister-wife, {SOMATIA SEANUS}; (1985-2003)
                * His sister-wife, OTACILIA SEANUS; (1989-present)
              * Their daughter, OTACILIA SEANUS
                * Her ex-brother-husband,  **{TERIUS SEANUS}** ; (1983-2003)
                * Her brother-husband,  **QUINTUS SEANUS** ; (1987-present)
      * Their daughter,  _Vestal_ {ATRONIA SEANUS}; (1920-1982)



 

**House Papas**

**{DECIMUS PAPAS}** ; (1900-1958)

      * His wife, {ACILIA PAPAS nee Serrana}; (1899-1950)
      * Their children:
        * Their son,  **{CANUS PAPAS}** ; (1911-1972)
          * His wife, {GAVIA PAPAS nee Sidonia}; (1935-1983)
          * Their children: 
            * Their son,  **DECIMUS PAPAS** ; (1940-present)
              * His wife, {NIGIDIA PAPAS nee Sidonia}; (1948-1996)
              * Their children: 
                * Their son,  **{TIBERIUS PAPAS}** ; (1964-2008)
                  * His wife, VIOLA ZABINI; (1985-present)
                * Their daughter, {POMPONIA SIDONIA nee Papas}; (1979-1995) 
                  * Her husband, {TITUS SIDONIA}; (1979-2014) 
                    * For issue, see HOUSE SIDONIA
            * Their daughter, {FAVONIA ZABINI nee Papas}; (1946-1972)
              * Her husband, {AGRIPPA ZABINI}; (1946-2009) 
                * For issue, see HOUSE ZABINI
        * Their daughter, {DIDIA SEANUS nee Papas}; (1913-1969)
          * Her husband, {GAIUS SEANUS}; (1915-1979) 
            * For issue, see HOUSE SEANUS



 

**The Lesser Houses**

**House Flavina**

 **{MARCELLOUS FLAVINA}** ; (1951-1980)

      * His wife, {OCTAVIA FLAVINA nee Pentronax}; (1951-1974)
      * Their children:
        * Their son,  **{MARCUS FLAVINA}** ; (1968-2014)
          * His wife, {VIDUCIA FLAVINA nee Calogera}; (1970-1994)
          * Their children: 
            * Their daughter, {OTACILIA FLAVINA}; (1986-1997)
            * Their son,  **{VEL FLAVINA}** ; (1988-1989)
            * Their son,  **{TITUS FLAVINA}** ; (1990-1990)
            * Their son,  **{DECIMUS FLAVINA** **}** ; (1994-2014)
              * His wife, POMPILIA FLAVINA nee Rhesa; (2000-present)
        * Their son, {VEL FLAVINA}; (1973-2014)
          * His wife, {GABINIA FLAVINA nee Sonia}; (1981-2014)
          * Their child: 
            * Their son,  **CNAEUS FLAVINA** ; (1998-present)



 

**House Sonia**

**{SISENNA SONIA}** ; (1969-2014)

      * His wife, {CAELIA SONIA nee Vatia}; (1981-2002)
      * Their children:
        * Their daughter, {GABINIA FLAVINA nee Sonia}; (1981-2014) 
          * Her husband, {VEL FLAVINA}; (1973-2014) 
            * For issue, see HOUSE FLAVINA
          * Her rapist, Minister of Magic {TITUS SIDONIA}; (1979-2014)
          * Their child:
            * Their bastard daughter,  _Vestalis Maxima_ LUCCENIA SONIA; (2000-present)
        * Their son,  **{CANUS SONIA}** ; (1982-2014)
          * His wife, {GALERIA SONIA nee Oceanus}; (1976-2010)
          * Their child: 
            * Their son,  **{METTIUS SONIA}** ; (1996-2014)
              * His wife, (KARYA SONIA nee ZARDARI}; (1996-2014)



 

**House Oceanus**

**{MARCELLOUS OCEANUS}** ; (1961-2014)

    * His wife, {GAVIA OCEANUS nee Callusuna}; (1960-2004)
    * Their children: 
      * Their daughter, {GALERIA SONIA nee Oceanus}; (1976-2010) 
        * Her husband, {CANUS SONIA}; (1982-2014) 
          * For issue, see HOUSE SONIA
      * Their son,  **{TIBERIUS OCEANUS}** ; (1989-2014)
      * Their daughter,  _Vestalis_ {GRATA OCEANUS}; (2004-2014)



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is posted in list format on ao3. For paragraph format, please visit my fanfiction account of the same name.


End file.
